


Coded Message

by morphia



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, Stony Secret Santa 2013, effects of solitary confinement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-10 15:43:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphia/pseuds/morphia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kidnapped and put in solitary confinement, and then rescued in a perfectly orchestrated operation, Steve and Tony are left to deal with how the ordeal has changed the nature of their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an incredibly late gift for anonimousba, who had provided a lengthy, detailed prompt which grew tremendously into this monster. There are several chapters already lined up for posting, so hopefully the story will be completed soon-ish.  
> I'd like to extend my thanks to all the wonderful people who helped in writing this so far, be it proof-reading or brainstorming: Smiledesu, KelleBelle, wonderweasel, and in-umbra-gratia.  
> And, of course, thank anonimousba for her incredible patience! 
> 
> *Rating is expected to change, and will eventually be set at E.

It started with a seemingly innocent suggestion.

"We should make a secret code." Clint said suddenly. The team was sitting at the dinner table having a joint meal, a rarer occasion these days than it had been at the beginning. Steve paused mid-chew and glanced at him. Natasha snorted around her own mouthful. Bruce made no comment, but Tony's interest was piqued. Thor had opted to spend the evening with Jane that day, which was a shame. Steve would've liked to see what Thor had to say on the matter.

"What code do you mean?" Tony asked, making a stabbing motion with his fork at Clint.

"Like Morse code, but that only we know what everything means." Clint said. He was picking through his plate for a piece of carrot, and when he found one he picked it up and threw it in his mouth, looking satisfied and completely at ease. "So we can communicate under difficult conditions without everyone figuring it out." He said. Steve resumed chewing and lowered his gaze back to his own plate. It was a sound idea, but Clint had brought it up, so he couldn't tell if it was genuinely the man's idea or something orchestrated by SHIELD. If he were to make a code, he wouldn't want the agents to know, trust them as much as he did. He glanced at Tony, who looked right back at him with a grin plastered on his face. Maybe Tony. A secret code he shared with Tony might come in handy one day. If it proves useful, they might consider sharing it with the rest of the team.

It was on their next trip to the diner around the block that Tony brought up the idea of the code again. He hadn't exactly started a conversation about it, though. He just made a pattern of taps on their table and looked Steve right in the eye before saying. "Help." It took a split second before Steve realized what Tony was trying to say, but then he simply nodded and repeated the pattern. They didn't need more than this to remember the words and their meanings. Both had vast capacity to memorize things, and it wasn't long before they'd constructed a considerable vocabulary.

~

Three days have passed since the successful rescue operation. The night finds Steve lying in bed in his Avengers Tower suite. It's common for him to go on very little rest, but even he still needs some hours of sleep each night. He stares ahead, memorizing the shape of the closet-door. He hasn't been able to sleep for three nights, but if he manages it now, won't it set him back there? In captivity? He shudders slightly at the thought when Jarvis' voice pierces the silence. "Excuse me, Captain Rogers."

It's a feat of pure self-control that he doesn't flinch at the sudden intrusion. He's been living in this tower for several years now, and still, being reminded that he's never entirely alone makes him uneasy. He doesn't hold it against Jarvis, of course. The AI can't help doing what he was designed to do. He doesn't blame Tony, either. It makes sense that a man of Tony's genius would have the most advanced gadgets and, if it means having an AI keep track of everything in the tower, well, that's what Tony does. And if he's honest, Steve can admit that Jarvis' tone had been quite soft. He sighs, closing his eyes. "Yes?"

"I am to inform you that-" Jarvis says, and the words are followed by a monotone set of taps. <hungry?> And Steve does flinch, this time. It's become second nature to translate the code into words, now. He rolls onto his back, controlling his breathing as best as he can, slow inhale, slow exhale. He stares at the ceiling and he's grateful that Jarvis isn't fussing. When he's got himself under control again, he closes his eyes and covers them with his palm.

"Tell him I'll be down in ten minutes." Steve finally says when he's sure of his voice. He takes a few more deep breaths before rolling off the bed and efficiently dressing up in casual clothes. He glances briefly in the mirror when he brushes his teeth and runs the back of his fingers along his cheek. The stubble is too short to earn a shave, too long to go unnoticed. He wonders if Tony would say anything, and washes out his mouth.

The elevator dings to announce his arrival at the workshop just on time, and he walks out into the open space. It still puts him on edge, but he ignores the sensation entirely. It'll pass in time, he reminds himself, and finds Tony sitting on the couch with a bottle of whiskey in one hand, hugged close to his side, and a tablet in the other hand. "Hi Cap." The man announces, his eyes still set on an image of intricate mechanism displayed on the tablet's screen. "Be with you in a minute." He offers when Steve pulls the whiskey bottle free from Tony's grip. He examines the bottle. It's a brand he used to like, and he contemplates taking a drink despite knowing it's going to do absolutely nothing for him.

"Take your time." Steve says when he decides what to do and unscrews the top of the bottle to take a quick sip. It's strong, and Steve hasn't had a drink in quite a while, and while it doesn't affect him, the taste burns his throat familiarly. He closes the bottle again and settles next to Tony, watching the schematics he's working on. "New car battery?"

"Working on completely green cars. This one's supposed to recharge via kinetic, thermal and solar energy, but no matter what I do, I can't work around needing some kind of older fuel." Tony answers absently as he pulls a piece of the image up and out of the tablet. The holographic projectors pick up the motion and expand the view, letting Steve watch closely. "The Arc Reactor technology is what I'm using to jump-start it, but that's still using finite resources." Tony grumbles, and Steve watches him for a moment. When Tony's frown only deepens, Steve reaches over and mangles the hologram. He knows Tony has it backed up so he doesn't hesitate.

"Tony." He waits for Tony to look at him with that slightly offended and generally startled expression on his face. Being able to surprise Tony is one of Steve's favorite things. "Didn't you say you wanted to head out?" And he knows already. He knows Tony had asked rather than announced, even though there's no way to indicate punctuation in their odd tap-language. Nearly three weeks of having only this code for communication has taken care of how well they understand each other when using it. Tony doesn't take the bait, dumps the tablet to the side and stretches. It's obvious Jarvis isn't supposed to know their code yet, Steve isn't complaining about that.

"Jarvis, how's my data doing?" Tony asks as he pulls himself to his feet, eyeing Steve up and down, which makes Steve raise an eyebrow questioningly.

"We should have results by tomorrow morning, Sir."

"Good, keep going. I'm gonna wash up and change, give me five minutes." Tony says, shaking his head and then turning to walk off, leaving Steve on the couch in his workshop. For anyone else, this would seem a huge feat of insanity - no one other than Rhodey and Pepper has ever been allowed to be in the workshop when Tony wasn't there - but here's Steve, sitting idly and glancing at the tablet from time to time before Jarvis speaks again.

"I've taken the liberty of installing an application I thought you might like, Captain." Jarvis says pleasantly, and Steve glances up to where Jarvis' speakers are concealed. "Do try it. I believe Mr. Stark will be longer than his stated estimation." So Steve glances at the tablet next, and sure enough, the project that was there just seconds ago has disappeared. The screen is now an old shade of cream white, textured like a page. "You will find a stylus along the right sideline." Jarvis adds helpfully.

And so it is that fifteen minutes later, when Tony comes back fresh and clean and ready to go out, he finds Steve sitting comfortably and doodling away. He clears his throat, even though Steve's hearing is, like the rest of him, enhanced. Steve simply smiles up at him and tilts his head. "How do I save this?" He asks, addressing the room in general.

"It is already saved, Captain Rogers." Jarvis says, so Steve sets the tablet aside and rolls onto his feet. He stretches and then taps Tony's shoulder. <let's go>. Tony doesn't jerk at the silent communication, but turns and joins Steve on the way to the car he'd been planning to take out for a spin.

The eatery they go to is almost completely empty, save for one weirdo at the corner and the lady at the counter. She takes their orders without pause, and serves them the food when it's ready. They hardly exchange a word during this time. Tony mutedly expresses his wish to be able to sleep at one point, Steve hums in agreement. When Tony's done eating and is waiting for Steve to finish, he's tapping the table. A nervous tic, Steve thinks, but he doesn't need to even try to figure it out. Tony is repeatedly tapping <Cap> <Cap> <tired> <Cap>, and it's driving Steve mad, but he can't do anything about it other than eat faster. <home> is the last thing Tony taps when Steve drops his utensils in his empty plate and reaches for his wallet. They half-heartedly argue between splitting the tab and letting Tony pay. It's short lived and nothing like their usual banter. Steve thinks it's like a ghost of what they used to be like before, but tries to not dwell on it. They decide to split the bill and leave after paying.

When the elevator at StarkTower arrives at Steve's floor, Tony idly taps <Sleep>, and Steve stalls just a second longer than he has to, to tap it back at Tony. When they were held captive, neither had felt it appropriate to use a mundane phrase like 'good night', and even if they had, their code was still fairly limited, and didn't contain such trivial phrases. It was this simple word that had helped them sleep in captivity. Their captors had never switched off the lights, so there was no sense of actual night, but Steve's inner clock is excellent, and he kept Tony up to speed as to what time it was.

When Steve slides into bed for a second attempt at sleep for that night, he falls asleep instantly.

~

_There was a constant buzz in the background that was the first solid thing he noticed. Then, the smoothness of the cool surface he was lying on registered. The place smelled alien and Steve contemplated between jumping awake to surprise whatever was guarding him and pretending to sleep long enough to pick up on any hints as to what could be going on. He chose the second option, using the idle time to figure out what's the last thing he could remember. There was a park, and he and Tony were discussing one thing or another, light conversation, then suddenly, Tony froze. It wasn't a surprised kind of freezing, but rather, an unnatural cessation of motion. Before Steve could ask what was wrong, though, he was out as well. So it had been an ambush probably, and some kind of neural interference. Steve hated cowards._

_When thirty minutes passed without a single change, Steve finally opened his eyes and sat up slowly. Nothing stopped his movement. There were no restraints on his hands or legs. He had been stripped down to his boxers, undershirt and socks, but was feeling no particular chill. The strong fluorescent light was white, cold and unforgiving. It illuminated the room completely. Steve took a long moment to survey his surroundings. Plain reinforced concrete walls, the width of which was yet undetermined. A large, high-security-vault door with no apparent handles or keyholes, just a small multi-layered window at the top and a movable hatch at the bottom. Steve assumed, and was later proven right, that it served the purpose of providing the inmate with food. He scowled at the thought, but it seemed that's what he was, and sugar-coating it wouldn't do him any good at the moment. There was no part of the cell, save for the corners adjacent to and the lower half of the door, that could not be seen through the window at a glance. Steve considered this for a bit, then looked at the opposite wall. It took some effort to spot, but a miniature camera was indeed embedded in the concrete. He could try and pry it out, but it would only do any good if the door was ever to be opened. He filed this thought away for later consideration and continued his inventory review._

_The bed he had been lying on - and he called it a bed because it was the only horizontal surface the small room had to offer other than the floor - was stripped of everything. There wasn't even a mattress to cushion the smooth and flat metal slab. Sleeping on this would be extremely unpleasant, but not entirely unmanageable. The bed was standing along one wall, one end pointing to the wall with the door in it, and the other end touched the wall on the other side. It would leave Steve with very little choice on how to sleep, but that wasn't the last of it. On the wall across from the bed there was a sink with a faucet, and a stripped bare toilet._

_So this was it, Steve thought, not exactly bitter but rather resigned. One little ambush, and The Avengers' finest leaders were off the grid. He'd be embarrassed if he weren't so busy wondering how it could've happened. And then, instead of embarrassment, Steve was consumed by one thought:_

What about Tony?


	2. Chapter 2

Steve's eyes are wide open in an instant. He doesn't sit up abruptly because that's how he's trained himself to react to waking up no matter the circumstances. Jumping up could prove fatal in certain situations. Once he confirms he's in his own bed, soft and warm and just a little bit damp, he allows himself to move. "Jarvis-"

"Good morning, Captain Rogers. It is now six forty eight am. Forecast predicts low humidity and around sixty seven degrees Fahrenheit midday." Jarvis cuts in like he's been waiting to be able to say this. "You have one message from Mr. Stark." Steve feels his shoulders hunch. It's going to be another coded message, isn't it?

Steve sighs as he pushes off the bed to slide into his clothes. He figures Jarvis has told Tony about his reaction to the last coded message, and this is his attempt to modify the interaction to better suit Steve's emotional state. He hates that this is what they've gotten to. A couple of guys who tip-toe around one another to not step on any open wounds. "Relay it." Is all he says as he laces his shoes. As he'd expected, a set of taps follows. <gotta> <talk>, the message says, and Steve frowns. Tony is not a need-to-talk kind of guy, so when it comes to this, it's worrisome. Steve nods his head. "Thanks."

He finds Tony at the workshop with both palms on his face and his shoulders slumped. Tony doesn't speak, but Steve knows he doesn't need to announce himself. Sure enough, Tony lifts his head to glance at Steve over his shoulder. He offers a faint smile, then palms his face again. "I can't do it." He says. "Gotta get a breather."

They go to Central Park, not for any reason other than that it's their default hang-out place. Steve's wearing his jogging gear, Tony's in his workshop clothes. They look completely out of place and mis-matched, but the single lady walking her dog and the cleaning guy going over the pavements don't even spare them a second glance. The silence stretches on and on between them, until Steve wonders if this is how it had always been between them, and he's only noticing it now. He knows that's not true, of course. Before the kidnapping, before they'd been put in solitary confinement, they used to spend plenty of time together, and they used to spend most of that time talking. Tony would always brag about his recent projects, or complain about super-villains ruining his plans. Steve would share his own bits about missions and charity works he did. It was never like it is now. Not even at the very beginning.

<quiet> Tony taps on Steve's shoulder. The movement is not as awkward as it could've been. Steve nods his head absently. He's not sure if it's a statement or a request, and when he glances at Tony, there's no hint in either direction. Then, Tony continues. <good> <sleep> <short> <bad> <dream> And Steve nods his head again to indicate he understands. So Tony had a nightmare. Not really all that surprising, Steve thinks. It had been the same for him, after all.

Before he can think too much of it, Steve raps a short response on Tony's forearm.

<same>

Their coded language is broken. While the amount of words they've incorporated is impressive, they'd never considered the grammar of it, or the importance of connecting particles. The concepts are narrow, because only the two of them share this code. So there's only one indicator for either of them. They've learned to communicate this way, however, and what would sound weird to a stranger is perfectly understandable between them. It would be amusing, a positive thought at the very least, had it been due to any other reason.

Tony takes his time, considering Steve's response no doubt. Then, he looks at Steve, his expression serious. <need> <fix> He taps, and Steve agrees. Their position in the Avengers doesn't allow for them to be neither sleep deprived nor otherwise emotionally unstable. Before the kidnapping, while both of them had had their respective issues, most of it never got in the way of their day to day work. Now, however, their teammates have actively requested that they take some time to recover from the ordeal. Steve would think it's somewhat pathetic. All it had been was almost three weeks of total isolation save for the shared code conversations with Tony through however thick the walls had been. It shouldn't have had such an impact on them, he thinks.

<How> Steve taps back eventually. He turns to watch the man beside him. Tony has black circles around his eyes, and Steve thinks it had been this way when they were extracted them from their cells. His back is hunched over still, and he looks out at the park, gaze darting here and there every so often. Maybe captivity had affected Tony differently than it had Steve. He finds it a likely thought.

"I don't know." Tony says eventually. The sound is intrusive. It offends the sense of balance the quiet had given them. Steve doesn't say anything about it, though. For Tony to say he doesn't know something… <hungry>

"Let's get breakfast." Steve says, glancing at his watch. It's nearly nine already, which surprises him a little. He makes to stand, ignoring how his voice sounds foreign to his ears, and continues. "We can talk about it there." He figures having something to occupy themselves with while talking would help. Tony doesn't object, just jumps to his feet and dusts off his greasy pants. They head for a nearby diner, and it's a little better. Steve doesn't feel as on edge as he did at the park. Probably related to the fact that that's where they got hit the first time. Maybe going to the park hadn't been the best idea. He doesn't dwell on it as they settle down at a table. Tony isn't looking at him, and Steve gives up trying to form eye contact at some point.

"So." Tony finally says after a long moment of poking at his food. "You too?" And it sounds pained, not exactly what Steve would expect. He looks up and finally, finally Tony is meeting his eyes. It doesn't last, and Tony looks outside the window at the street soon after. "What was it?" He asks.

"Flashback." Steve answers offhandedly. He wouldn't be volunteering this information to anyone else, but he trusts Tony. "You?"

"Same."

Steve wishes he had anything worthwhile to say. He knows Tony's just as uneasy with the whole thing. Talking about emotions and mental state has never really been their forte. He nods his head to acknowledge he'd heard, then sips from his orange juice to push back having to answer. He feels more at ease here than he had at the tower or out in the park. It's easier to breathe when he has Tony in his line of sight, when he knows, without having to trust anything and anyone else, that Tony is okay. "At least we slept." He says, and curses how stiff his tone sounds. Tony sends a short, impatient look his way, then pokes again at his meal. It looks anything but appetizing.

"Yeah, at least that." And Steve wishes he could tell if that was sarcasm or genuine agreement. He forces himself to not care which one it is when he digs into his own meal. It has no taste at all, and he hardly feels full once he's done. At this point, Tony would usually get up abruptly and excuse himself, but he's stalling.

When they're on their way back, Tony asks if Steve can help him with something in the workshop, and Steve, not wanting to part ways just yet, agrees instantly. It's mainly menial work, lifting a few heavy things and then holding them in place while Tony secures them. It's something Steve has done for Tony numerous times in the past, but while in the past Tony spent most of the time babbling away about his plans for future projects, he's completely silent now, and if he wants to say something, he taps it. They're done before Steve is quite ready to leave, but seeing as there's no reason for him to stay, he nods at Tony and tries not to read too much into the weird look he gets as he turns to the door.

That evening, before going to bed, Steve decides to do something, to test it out, and calls Jarvis. He requests just one thing. "Could you pass Tony a message?" And when Jarvis agrees, Steve taps it on his desk. Ten seconds later, Jarvis prompts him to receive a message in return - a repeat of the same pattern.

<sleep>

~

_It took Steve a minute to realize the buzzing noise was just the fluorescent light. Worry gnawed at him. Was Tony alright? If it had been a drug that had taken them down, Tony would probably still be out of it. Steve got to his feet and paced from the door to the wall across from it, then turned on his heels. He was lucky to still have his socks on, since the floor looked cold and unpleasant to step on. Then, he surveyed the walls to see if there was any indication of how thick they were - there was none - and if there were more cameras installed - there were not._

_After some time has passed, Steve went to wash his face at the sink, then sat down on the steel bed, wiping his face on his shirt. This wasn't his first run-in with captivity, though he had to admit it was by far the weirdest. He had no injuries to speak of, no confinement of motion outside the fact that he couldn't leave the room. No way to communicate with anyone outside the cell. It was suspicious, but he didn't know what to make of it. He didn't know where Tony was, or if he was even still alive. The thought - the idea - that Tony might actually be dead left a sour taste in his mouth, and he was glad to be sitting. He reached up to palm his face. Calm yourself, he thought. This isn't the first time something bad went down, and Tony's a strong individual. If Steve didn't keep his composure, he couldn't hope to help anyone, let alone save Tony. A small, unsettled smile rose to his lips at that thought. Save Tony, huh? The man would unibeam his head off if he knew he'd even thought that._

_"Isn't it about time you read me my rights?" Steve stood up and said when he saw a shadow cloud over the window. There was no verbal response, but the hatch at the bottom of the door opened. Steve contemplated launching forward to hold it open, to maybe find a way out that way, but decided against it the next moment. It would be better to wait it out a bit longer, figure out routines, see what they wanted and how he could ruin their plans best. He wasn't worried about imminent death. If they'd wanted him dead, they would have already killed him when he was out of it. A flat plastic tray slid into the room, various foodstuff on it, a roll of toilet paper, and a note that read:_ Enjoy your stay.

_Controlling his urge to kick the tray, Steve instead lifted it and rested it on the bed, then sat next to it. The food seemed decent enough, but he wasn't planning to try eating it until he was actually hungry. Instead, he turned the piece of paper over in his hand a few times. It was useless, he couldn't divine who had written it. It was printed, and Steve's detective skills were limited to handwriting._

_He wished they'd given even a sliver of a hint as to what was going on with Tony._


	3. Chapter 3

"Any luck?" Steve asks as they exit the tower the next day at noon. It's becoming a habit and neither of them is willing to be the one to say it, but they both feel it, Steve is certain of this. They don't trust the tower and they can't talk freely there. He glances over at Tony, who's looking worn out, but less exhausted.

"Sleep, yes. Quality, still working on it." Tony says briskly as he takes an unexpected turn. Steve nearly walks right into him but thanks to his reflexes manages not to. It's an unusual route for them to take, and Steve is less familiar with the streets, but he knows why they're doing this. He doesn't mention it. It's an eerie thing to be witnessing, Steve thinks. A less animated, certainly more silent Tony. Steve wants to dig in, to ask what's going through Tony's mind, but he refrains. Even when Tony was at his most talkative, this sort of question would put him on a defensive stance, and Steve doesn't think he can handle being shut out and away so soon.

"Got any leads? Ideas?" Steve asks, quiet. Even if they're not taking their usual route, they're probably being followed, and Steve doesn't want anyone following them to hear their conversation if he can help it. Tony pulls a face, lips a tight line and his eyes hard ahead of him. Steve can tell he's not really looking at the road.

"Yes, and no." Tony says then, casting a look around them and then up at the tops of the surrounding buildings. Steve does the same, though he knows he's not likely to see anyone there. When Tony settles his gaze on Steve again, he looks… contemplative. Conflicted. Steve never did manage to pinpoint the minute difference in expression between the two. A sudden left turn leaves Steve a bit surprised, but before he can recover, Tony pulls him off balance by the arm and presses him to the wall, "Stay." He whispers and presses back besides him. Steve glances over in every direction, feels the air rustle a bit, then blinks. Is Tony using some kind of camouflaging device on them?

"I have an idea." Tony says after a full ten minutes' wait. Steve doesn't even try and question him until he speaks, and when he does, Steve watches him carefully. "It's crazy." Tony adds, which makes Steve raise an eyebrow. Tony rarely recognizes how vastly crazy his plans really are. When he does, the scale of insanity is respectable. Steve hopes it's nothing as grand.

"Let's hear it."

Tony fixes him with a challenging stare. "Well, proximity helps, when we're awake." He says, and when Steve doesn't refute the statement, he continues. "What if it's the same when we sleep?"

Steve considers that for a second. "You mean, if we sleep in the same bed?" He asks, to clarify. Tony's stare doesn't falter and he nods his head once, and Steve can practically feel the tension radiating at him from the man. "Okay." He says, marking the way Tony's features instantly relax. He wonders what it might be like, to sleep in the same bed with Tony, wonders if Tony's considering the implication that might entail. It's not like they never had to sleep in the same room before. How different can it be?

~

When Tony climbs into Steve's bed that night, Steve can't help but stare at his ridiculously expensive pajamas for a moment, until Tony rolls his eyes and shoves at Steve's shoulder. "Not a word, Rogers." He says, making Steve shake his head. What's the point in having such expensive sleepwear, anyway? He turns his gaze away from Tony as the man settles down under the covers beside him.

If, before the whole kidnapping ordeal, anyone had asked him about his orientation, Steve would easily say he was straight. He's had his share of crushes and relationships with ladies. Peggy had been a good option for him, if he hadn't taken the arctic dive. He would not have even considered men for potential partners. He believes that if he had been interested in men, he wouldn't have hesitated to seek out romantic partners of that gender, but he's not entirely sure. And he's fairly certain that if he'd been gay, he would've known by now. He's not a teenager anymore, not even in his twenties. He should be well established in his sexual orientation. And yet…

And yet, ever since they got back from captivity, things have changed. He's always loved Tony, of that he is neither ashamed nor doubtful, but it was never like this. The way Tony's closeness affects him, how he feels at ease almost exclusively when Tony is around, and the way he finds himself looking at him. He wonders, absently, if Tony's ever considered the possibility of there being more than friendship between them. It's obvious that Tony would never bring such an idea up, in fear of changing things, ruining it maybe.

"What's on your mind, Cap?" Tony asks as he pulls up the covers. They're a good two feet apart, barely feeling each other's warmth, and Steve turns to lie on his back and stare at his familiar ceiling. It had been a debate when they tried to decide which room they would sleep in, one concluded by the fact that it would be easier to conceal their new sleeping arrangement that way. He doesn't look at Tony, but knows just as well that the man is not looking his way.

"Just wondering if this is going to work." Steve says easily. It's not a lie, either. It's part of the whole question. What exactly are they trying to achieve by sharing a bed, he wonders again, reminding himself that it's got to do with the quality of their sleep, and the nightmares that they're having. When Tony doesn't respond, Steve turns to look at him.

"If this is making you uncomfortable-"

"It's fine, Tony." Steve says, exasperated. He hesitates, then reaches over and taps on Tony's pillow. <sleep>

"Lights out, J." Tony says. And then, when darkness envelopes them, Steve feels Tony repeat the word back, tapping on his shoulder. He can't help the tiny smile on his face as he settles down to sleep.

~

_A few hours have passed since Steve woke up in the cell. He tasted some of the food and found it to be on that side of sufficient. It wasn't the tastiest meal, but it was far from gross. To not go mad with worry, he forced himself to not think about Tony, but if he was putting most of his attention on his hearing, well, no one could blame him, right? Even though Steve doubted he would actually hear when Tony woke up._

_It took two hours before Steve finally heard something, rapid tapping from somewhere. He couldn't tell which of the walls it was coming from right off the bat, but after the first repetition he recognized it. <Cap> <Cap> the taps were nervous, but recognizable. Steve fumbled for the plate from his food tray and then paused, turning his head this way and that to pinpoint which wall the sound was coming from._

_< Tony> He knocked back when finally he decided it was the wall with the sink. A pause followed. Then came a litany of broken questions Steve could barely follow. <wait> He tried to interrupt, but it didn't help. He didn't mind, and let the stream of noise fill the room without interruption. _Tony was okay. _Tony was alive and well enough to think of a way to try and contact him. They could work out the rest._

~

Waking up is a slow, languid progression that morning. Steve's eyes flutter open, and it takes the tilt of Tony's head for him to realize he's smiling faintly at him. "How long have you been up?" Steve asks after clearing his throat, shifting to lie on his back again. Tony doesn't answer immediately, so Steve glances at him.

"A few minutes." Tony relents and pulls himself up to lean against the headboard. "Didn't want to disturb you. You looked like you were enjoying yourself." He says, smiling despite himself. Steve pulls himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. He'd imagined the morning after would be a lot more awkward than it actually is.

"Thanks. I was." Steve says, and if he sounds genuinely pleased with that, he doesn't mind. Tony is probably the only one to know this, but Steve doesn't get to say that very often about his night's sleep. Later, he'll probably wonder if Tony's presence in his bed would've helped before the whole kidnapping ordeal had taken place, but as he has no way of checking this, he'll decide to let it lie. "How was yours?" He asks, and it almost feels… natural. It almost feels like it did before. Talking like this is not oppressive on his ears, it isn't putting him on edge at all.

"Great, actually." Tony says, stretches, and then closes his eyes. "Still flashback," he admits, "but not as bad as the ones before." Steve hums in return. He tries not to notice the way the rumpled pajamas rests on Tony's torso. It's nothing he's ever paid much attention to, before. Why should he start thinking about it now?

"Good."

"Good." Tony agrees, then pauses. "So…" He hesitates.

"The test run went well, I think-"

"Hey, it's not scientific if you only try once." Tony interrupts, "Once's an accident, twice-  coincidence-"

"Three times' a pattern. I know, Tony. I think it's safe to say it works, though. We can just…" Steve shrugs then, tries for a casual attitude, "continue doing this, for now." The way Tony's face lights up doesn't escape Steve's notice, even though Tony shutters the emotion quickly. Thinking it's obvious Tony would be happy to have an easy solution at hand, Steve doesn't consider it further.

Over time, Steve becomes familiar with Tony's various pajamas. He'd never imagined the man would wear anything special to bed, let alone a full pajama suit, but every night, Tony shows up in his quarters in a different set. For himself, Steve usually sleeps in a plain shirt and shorts. He used to sleep in boxers and a shirt, but figured it might make Tony uncomfortable. They don't touch at all when in Steve's bed, aside for the tapping communication. Or at least, Steve falls asleep and wakes up and they're well apart at those times. They get caught two days after starting the test, when Tony gets off the elevator at Steve's floor, but no one seems surprised or remotely concerned about it. Steve asks Natasha about this reaction, or lack thereof, but she gives him her unreadable look, accompanied by a tiny smile, and says nothing. Clint waves him off, saying they've been waiting to see when it would happen. Steve wonders what that means.

On the eighth day, something changes. One of Tony's hands grasps the hem of Steve's sleep shirt under the covers after they've both settled down. Steve pauses but decides not to comment on it. Every night, when they sleep, Steve dreams about their time in captivity. It's not so much a nightmare as, Steve suspects, an unconscious attempt to unveil the mystery. They haven't directly discussed it, yet. Steve wonders if they ever will, as he slowly drifts into sleep, Tony's hand a constant presence at his lower back.

It becomes weirder when Steve wakes up. He has Tony's arm loosely resting over his waist in a gesture resembling a hug. The man's breathing is steady, slow. Clearly, Tony's still sleeping. Steve takes a stabilizing breath. It doesn't mean anything, he tells himself. Tony was cold so he got closer, and the hug was just a way to maintain that closeness. Steve tries not to move at all, tries to match his breathing to Tony's in the hopes that he might fall asleep again. It doesn't work, and Steve fidgets, accidentally waking up Tony with the sudden motion. Tony doesn't move an inch, but Steve knows he's awake. The tension is suddenly so thick, Steve's not sure if he's even breathing anymore. And then...

Then Tony pulls closer, fastening his arm around Steve's waist, hand splaying across his solar-plexus. Tony's face fits itself in the crook of Steve's neck, and he breathes a sigh of relief. Steve remains motionless, although he doesn't exactly freeze. He lets the silence linger on, until curiosity overcomes him. "Yeah?"

"Mmhmm." Tony hums against his skin, and Steve doesn't know how to categorize the sensation. He's been intimate with ladies before, the sensation isn't new in that regard. It is, however, new in some other ways. The scratch of Tony's beard against his skin, the moist breath, and the heat of his body is significantly more radiant than that of the ladies he'd been with. He considers the thumping from Tony's chest, his pulse quick, but his body's firm and motionless.

"Okay." He says, settles down easier. There's a shift at his neck and Steve guesses Tony is smiling.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured I'd post the next chapter because hey, some sexy timez and stuff. Besides, it's been a while since the last update so, here you go.

Three days later, Steve wakes up with Tony's back pressed into his chest, not entirely ready to get out of bed yet. He can almost taste the answer to that elusive question on his tongue. Who'd kidnapped them? He has his suspicions, but his leading suspect is, surprisingly, SHIELD. He pulls Tony a bit closer, trying to force the thoughts out of his head. He's not ready to deal with thoughts yet, this morning. Tony makes a soft, surprised sound, and his lips curve in a smile.

"Morning, Cap." He says, eyes still closed and expression serene. To Steve's surprise, Tony then wiggles his ass against him, making a querying sound. "Is that-"

"Oh." Steve utters, but before he can pull back, Tony rests his a hand on Steve's bicep, keeping him in place. "I-" He tries, but Tony shakes his head.

"It's cool, Cap." Tony says, opening his eyes a bit to glance at Steve. "I got one too, you know." And Steve's certain that's an invitation, but he still doesn't do anything. Tony hesitates a fraction, then looks away, staring into mid-distance. "We could..." He trails off, but Steve thinks he understands.

"If you want to." He answers, voice nothing but a whisper. The silence that follows is nerve wrecking, but Steve can't say he regrets it when Tony speaks.

"Nah." He says, smiling a bit easier. "I mean, not that I don't want to, but I think..." He wiggles around until he's lying on his other side, facing Steve. "I think I want to do this properly."

"You're going to take me on a date, then?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow in amusement. Tony chuckles.

"I think we're well past that stage. Although I do plan to take you out on dates, if you don't mind." He says, then tilts his head into the pillow, breathing in slowly with his eyes closed. Steve waits to see if there's anything more, and Tony doesn't disappoint. "Taking you to bed, Cap. I want to do it right." He says, eyes opening to meet Steve's, an unspoken challenge in them. "I want it to be the best goddamn experience you've ever had." His stare is intense and his jaw is set, giving him an extremely serious expression for a person who just woke up, which makes Steve gulp. He hadn't let himself consider this possibility for the longest time, even as thoughts kept creeping up on him, and yet here they are, discussing it as openly as the two of them can, all things considered.

"That's setting the bar kind of high." Steve says, grinning when Tony laughs. He understands what Tony means, though. As fun as casual morning sex could be, they might benefit from having it when they're more conscious and with less morning breath. Steve tries to ignore the fact that he hasn't actually had sex with a man before, and that that's probably the main reason Tony's postponing it. He can't ignore a touch of disappointment, either way, but doesn't press the issue, and turns to roll out of bed. Tony grabs his wrist and stops him, so he pauses, looks over at him.

"Don't go too far." He says, in what Steve would regard as a pleading tone, if he took Tony for the pleading type. He keeps his smile in place and nods his head.

"I'm just going to take a shower, I'll be back soon."

~

It gets awkward the longer they spend not talking about it. Steve tries to not appear too eager, but he suspects Tony's doing the same thing. The day is mostly uneventful, and even when the alarm goes off, Steve and Tony remain in the tower. They're not allowed to join the good fight until they figure out their issues, which puts both of them on edge.

 _As you can see in the security camera footage we've been able to retrieve, the army of clones is focusing on those buildings._ The reporter gestures with his hand to some buildings far down the street he's standing in. _We don't yet know how many have been hurt in this attack, but we'll be sure to report it as soon as the information is released- What's that?_ The reporter then leans to lend his ear to a passing policeman. _I see. We're going to have to evacuate the area, as fighting seems to be advancing in this direction. We'll return with more in a bit._

"Mute!" Tony exclaims and kicks his foot against the heavy coffee-table's leg just as Steve walks in with two cups of tea at hand. Handing Tony one of the steaming mugs, he settles down beside him and stares idly at the images of wreckage on the television. He's downright itching to go out there and help, but he and Tony have been benched, and he knows they're not likely to be much help, no matter how frustrated they get about it. He glances at Tony, just in time to see him sipping from the tea he'd made him, eyes closed in concentration. Tony hums against the mug as he takes another sip, and then another. Steve tries to pretend he doesn't notice how low Tony's pants are riding, how tight his sleeveless shirt fits. He doesn't manage to tear his gaze from the way Tony's muscles move with the motion of lifting the tea to his lips. How had he worked with him for so long without noticing just how attractive Tony is?

"Can you think any louder?" Tony asks, and when Steve looks up, he sees Tony watching him. When did that happen? He doesn't try for a bashful attitude, choosing instead to just smile at him.

"Yeah well..." He says, waves his hand absently before turning his attention to his own tea. Tony, however, has more to say.

"So, why now?"

Steve glances over the rim of the mug at the television, contemplating how to best answer this, not exactly seeing the reporter speaking to the camera, before settling for the easiest answer, the truth. "I don't know." Tilting his head slightly, he considers this and then adds "Could ask you the same question." which makes Tony laugh. Steve briefly wonders when was the last time he's heard Tony laughing this genuinely. It doesn't surprise him that the answer is 'well before the kidnapping', but he's happier about hearing it than he is sad that it's taken so long to get to this point.

"Oh Cap..." Tony says, shaking his head before taking another sip, and then setting the cup on the coffee table. "It's not new, for me." He admits, turning to look at Steve, who watches him carefully, a concerned frown on his face. "What? Surprised?"

"Just... Wondering." Steve says, opens his mouth to say something, then pauses and shakes his head. Next, he chuckles and sets his own mug aside. "You never said anything."

Tony turns his gaze to the television and sighs, and even though he's still smiling slightly, his leg still taps idly on the floor. "What exactly would you have had me say, Steve? You weren't showing any signs..." He seems to be searching for a way to say what's on his mind, making a gesture with his hand to form a sort of visual anchor for himself, before settling for something. "You're the straightest man I know. I wasn't going to bring it up, hazarding the loss of what we did have, on the off chance you might be interested in more. The risk was too high." He bites his lower lip and keeps staring at a fixed point in the television. Steve knows he's not really watching it.

"So..." Steve says, feeling obligated to ask, "How long?"

"Years." Is all Tony is willing to give away, and Steve accepts it. He's not sure what to do next, though, so he reaches over for his mug, but Tony stops him with a hand on his forearm. "Look, you can still opt out." He says, resigned, and Steve glances at his face, marking the pained expression there, the doubt. Tony's eyes are downcast, but his grip is true. Steve moves to take Tony's hand in his own and takes a moment to consider the gesture. He's only ever held ladies' hands before, aside for the occasional assistance in getting Tony, or other friends, on their feet. This is vastly different, but not even remotely bad.

"I'm not going to." Steve assures him, eyes set on Tony's and he waits patiently for the man to lift his own and meet his gaze. "It's true that I never considered you that way before-" A shadow of guilt casts over Tony's face, but Steve forges on. "And it's true that I'm probably not going to consider any other man this way, but I do consider you this way now, and that's all I care about."

For all of a minute Tony stares at him, his stare a challenge, daring Steve to take it back now, because he can't afford to hope. When Steve unwaveringly keeps eye-contact with him, Tony finally nods his head, then shakes it, huffing a bitter laugh. "And what happens when you stop considering me that way?" Steve blinks, surprised, then bows his head a bit, eyebrows pinching together.

"Tony... I don't think I'm going to stop once I've started." He says seriously. "This... Thing we went through. It's changed us. Don't pretend you don't agree, that you don't believe it or feel it." When Tony nods his head, Steve continues. "The only thing that's new about this for me is that-" He pauses, gulping, "that it's physical too, now."

"So it's not just that you needed a warm body in your bed at night?" Tony's tone is quiet, almost a whisper, the hesitation clear in his tone. Steve absently acknowledges that he's never had this deep a conversation about feelings with anyone, and he's pretty sure the same is true for Tony.

"It wouldn't have worked if it wasn't you."

"And it's not just that you're suddenly bi-curious or something?"

"Bi-curious?" Steve says, puzzled, but before he can ask further, Tony's shaking his head, laughing despite himself.

"Never mind, okay. I get it." He says, his grasp on Steve's hand tightening slightly. "I get it." Steve's convinced he's never seen Tony smile quite like this before, not after nor before the kidnapping. Aside, perhaps, for when Tony was faced with advanced technology that tickled his genius just right.

~

"You've done this before, right?" Tony asks when they make it to Steve's bedroom. Tony's gotten this new habit since their return from captivity, of hanging around at Steve's place whenever he wasn't doing anything that absolutely required him to be in the workshop, so he's fairly comfortable in Steve's space by now. Steve's grown used to it, too, and to Tony entering his bedroom without hesitation. Still, with what they're planning to do, Steve is just a little bit fidgety. Tony doesn't comment on it.

"With dames, but never-"

"Yeah, I figured." Tony says, reaching to take both of Steve's hands in his own. "It's pretty similar, so don't worry about it." He doesn't let Steve say anything, though. "Now, kiss me." Steve opens his mouth to say something more, but Tony shakes his head. "No questions, just go for it. Lay one on me." So Steve's mouth closes and his eyes drift to Tony's lips and he's sure Tony notices, but it still seems like he's okay with it. Nodding his head, Steve takes a fortifying breath, then leans in, pressing his lips to Tony's own.

There's a quiet moment where Tony lets Steve test this contact. Steve fits their lips together, then pulls back, looking puzzled. "It's..."

"I know." Tony says, grinning at Steve's confusion.

Steve shakes his head, then leans in to try again, pressing his lips to Tony's. The softness of his lips is the same as the one he'd always enjoyed when kissing ladies. The only actual difference is the facial hair tickling his skin. Steve had assumed that kissing a man would feel different, though he realizes he had no reason to think so. Still, the surprise subsides and makes way for excitement. The smooth softness of Tony's lips makes Steve's heart pound faster, makes him want to do more. His hands squeeze Tony's and he pulls back. "It's great." He says quietly. Tony then presses closer, setting Steve's hands on his hips and reaches up to wrap his arms around Steve's neck. The next kiss is deeper, lips parting, tongues sliding past to taste and air is harder to come by. Steve can feel the quick breaths from Tony on his cheek, and he wonders if it's just him, or if the air around them is actually heavier than it was just moments ago.

Tony presses their bodies together tight, making Steve gasp into the kiss. Tony's body is hard and tightly built, nothing like the soft curves Steve is used to. While he's gotten somewhat used to feeling Tony's body against his own, the context is a mite different, which makes Steve hyper-aware of everything. Instead of being put off by these differences, Steve finds himself allured, enticed. He wants to explore it, wants to revel in it. He wants to figure out all the tiny and inexplicable ways in which this is nothing like being intimate with a woman. He lets out a sound when Tony pulls back.

"Good?" Tony asks, rubbing slightly against Steve. It's clear he's enjoying himself, if his half-closed eyes and that hard-on pressing against his hip are anything to go by. Steve's already hardening in his pants, and he knows Tony can feel it. He has to assume, then, that the question was rhetorical. He grasps Tony's hips instead of just letting his hands rest there, and pulls them tighter together, to grind against him, and Tony's surprised gasp is worth it completely.

"What do you think?" Steve drawls, kissing Tony again. He could get used to it. He's already getting used to it. He doesn't care what it means, only wants to make it last, keep it going.

"I... Think we're overdressed for the occasion." Tony answers when he's got his bearings back. It takes less time than Steve had thought it would, but it doesn't matter. He agrees fervently. He wants to see all of Tony's body and touch everything, not the distant, disinterested one-overs he used to give him when they showered together after practice at the gym, but an intimate exploration. Tony seems to be of the same mind, and they pull apart instantly. Later, Steve will wonder about this. The way they just immediately separate and take off every last bit of fabric like it's on fire. It's definitely a faster method than the slow, foreplay-esque way the dames he'd been with had liked, but Tony seems all too eager to do it this way, and Steve isn't going to complain.

They stand for a moment, both breathing fast, chests heaving with it, as they take in each other's nakedness. It's not that they've never seen each other naked, but there was always a shower involved, and no sexual tension to speak of. Now, however, both men are eager to learn each other, and it's clear in the way Tony's eyeing Steve, and Steve knows Tony can see it on his face, too. Steve breaks the stalemate first, reaching directly for Tony's dick. He's nothing if not straight-forward, even though he's never touched another man this way before. It's no surprise that in texture it is pretty much the same as touching himself, but there is added value in the fact there's no physical feedback. He doesn't feel his own touch. Tony's holding his breath, and Steve finds himself smiling as he runs careful fingers along the shaft before wrapping them around the hardened dick and giving a gentle stroke. Tony's breath shudders out and his eyes close at the sensation. Steve considers the organ in his hand, comparing between them. They're of similar girth and length, but the color is completely different, and the shapes vary between them slightly. It's a point of difference Steve would like to explore more, sometime, but for now he just focuses on feeling. "This... okay?" He asks.

"Perfect." Tony answers shortly, reaches down to close his hand over Steve's own. He directs Steve how he likes to be gripped, and Steve catches on quickly. "But-" Tony suddenly says, stopping Steve's motions on his person. "Let me..." And Steve sees the full motion of Tony's hand as it reaches for his dick, but he remains perfectly still, breath catching when he's touched. Tony's neither shy nor overly gentle. His fingers and palms are littered with small, snagging callused areas, making the touch rougher than Tony probably intends for it to be, but Steve is enjoying it as it is. "Yeah... You like that huh?" Tony's voice drips seduction and Steve is lost in this contact. So focused, so lacking in finesse but at the same time so _them_.

"Tony..." Steve mutters absently, and Tony guides him to the bed.

"You know this is all very nice, doing this standing up, but think of the possibilities if we just..." He pushes at Steve's chest, tipping him over, and Steve lets himself fall backwards onto the bed. "Lie down, hmm?" Tony says, dropping down next to Steve before kissing him again. They roll around once, twice, until Tony gets Steve to settle over him. Steve gives him a questioning look, but Tony shakes his head. "Don't give me this look. We both know you're not going to just enjoy having a dick in your ass right off the bat and I want this to be fun for both of us, remember?" Tony wiggles a bit and wraps his legs around Steve's waist, pulling him down and pressing up at the same time, and when their erections meet, Steve lets out an embarrassing sound. He tries to stifle it but Tony presses against him again, and Steve lets himself be pulled down at last, pressing his forehead to Tony's shoulder.

"Tony I..." Steve suddenly realizes something and presses down harder against Tony. "I don't have anything..."

"What?"

"Condoms... Stuff..." Steve says, and Tony chuckles under him, breathless and amused.

"It's fine, Cap. We'll make do. Don't worry." And it's amazing how reassuring it is to hear those words from Tony. Hands cup his face and make him turn until he's looking into Tony's eyes. "Rub against me, Steve, I can't do this alone." Tony says, his smile wide and his eyes soft, an expression Steve has never seen on the man's face before. He thinks he likes it.

"Right." Steve nods his head and starts moving, glancing down between them. He moves slowly at first, to gauge the sensation, but then faster when he figures out just the right angle, just the right amount of pressure. By the time he looks to Tony's face again, the man's eyes are closed in bliss and his head is tilted back. Tony's hands are grasping at Steve's sides, grounding him, and he leans down to press a kiss to Tony's neck, adjusting his motions to Tony's.

"Mm... Your dick is fantastic." Tony says at one point, not in a particularly sexy tone. It seems to be a relatively innocent statement until- "Bet it'd feel great inside me." And just like that, Steve is gone. He doesn't even know how it happened, he hadn't been close, but something in the way Tony'd said that seems to have been too much. He's almost completely silent when he comes, the pleased sighs falling from his lips the most that can be heard. Once he stops moving, he notices Tony's still rutting against him, but when he makes to resume motion himself, Tony pats his side lightly. "It's okay... Just stay still for me... Just..."

When Tony climaxes, Steve can feel his cock twitching against his abdomen, the liquid warmth spreading between them. He tries to steady his breath, but it'll take a bit longer to accomplish. He doesn't mind. "Am I too heavy?" He mutters next to Tony's ear. Tony shakes his head.

"Don't you dare move."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of a filler chapter. Proof-read by the wonderful in-umbra-gratia~ I hope you enjoy this one.

They finish getting cleaned up before the team comes back from evil-fighting. Steve kisses Tony a few more times during that time, both to test the contact some more, and simply because he wants to. Tony doesn't seem to object at all. In fact, Steve thinks this is the most at ease they've been since the kidnapping. He figures a good orgasm and some heavy petting in the shower are a strong contributing factor in this.

During debrief, which Steve still insists they attend, Tony leans just a bit into his space. Close enough that it might seem different, but not close enough for any suspicions to arise. At least, Steve hopes so. He doesn't mind the closeness, though. That, he rather enjoys. Despite it, though, he's more on edge, more alert, now that there are more people around. He notices Tony's more tense, too.

Widow explains in precise terms what the event had been. She sums up the speed of response the team had had and how fast they'd managed to avert the threat. She counts a few collateral damage instances that could've been avoided if certain active members weren't as reckless as they had been. She's looking at Clint, then at Thor, and both men shrug in response. Bruce is quiet the whole time, sipping his tea and looking from Steve to Tony and back. Steve gets the feeling Bruce is seeing what's going on, but for some reason that doesn't worry him at all.

"-and if we had aerial support, I wouldn't have had to take shots in the dark-" Clint says, snagging Steve's attention just as Tony tenses up even more beside him.

"You had Thor monitoring the sky. Give me a real excuse." Natasha says calmly. Clint grinds his teeth and glares at her for a long moment before breaking eye-contact.

"The machinery, Nat. The readings." He eventually settles for, speaking more softly than he had just a moment ago. He's looking at the table where his hands are resting, fingers tapping in turn. Natasha glances at Tony briefly, then sighs.

"Well, you need to remember how to compensate for that until things level out and our fearless leaders can get back out in the field. Don't tell me you forgot how to operate alone." She answers in an equally soft tone. Thor moves in his chair a bit, then shakes his head.

"Nay, it is I who was at fault. I should have given a more accurate layout of the battlefield when Clint requested it."

"It was impossible from where you were floating, Thor." Bruce joins in, and Tony can't hold back a snorting chuckle.

"Floating? That's what you're calling it now?"

"I do not float, Dr. Banner." Thor said, an insulted look on his face and one eyebrow raised. "I fly." His gaze darts towards Tony, then to Steve, but he says nothing more.

"Alright, guys. We're not here to point accusing fingers at anyone. I believe we're done here." Steve says, but before he can move to stand, Natasha catches his eyes.

"Wait, Captain." She says, "Could we have a status report on your progress?" And while it's stated as a request, Steve knows it's a demand. He glances at Tony, who shrugs absently and looks away.

"We're still working on it, Agent Romanov." He emphasizes the use of her rank, just as she'd just done for him. She raises an almost amused eyebrow at that. "It looks like we're making good progress. When we have a better outlined timeframe, you guys will be the first to know." He looks at Tony again, who's got a skeptical eyebrow raised. Next, Steve surveys the faces of his teammates. Clint looks wary. Natasha has her Trademark unimpressed look on her face, but her eyebrows are just a little furrowed. Maybe he should talk to her later, in private. Bruce is meditating calmly off to the side and Thor is balancing Mjölnir on his hand.

"Any leads on who did it?" Did her voice just waver? Steve pretends to not notice.

"Still shooting in the dark, Nat." Tony interrupts, then gets to his feet. "You'll get an update on that, too." He gestures to Bruce, who opens his eyes just in time to see it. "Doctor." He grins, "I'll want a word with you." And then Tony turns his glance to Steve.

"Okay," Steve clears his throat, "dismissed, everyone." And as he thought, in the small commotion that rises as their team disperses, Tony taps him idly out of the others' sight on his back. <join> <us>

~

Bruce looks from Steve to Tony, then back to Steve, before leaning back in his chair, both eyebrows raised. His hands are resting in his lap, fingers interlaced. "And?"

"You're not surprised." Tony deadpans, staring at Bruce like he'd just sprouted antennas out of his head. "At all."

"No." Bruce answers, shrugging, but something in his nonchalance makes Steve suspicious. He's not sure what it is. "We all knew it was going to happen. Actually, Clint was convinced you were already doing it, since you were..." he pauses for some reason, and then- "sleeping together." Steve knows Bruce speaks deliberately, but doesn't comment on it. He nods his head minutely, instead.

"Why am I getting the feeling you're not telling us everything?"

"Because he's not." Tony says without pause, pointing accusingly at Bruce, who in turn gives them an apologetic smile. So it's true, Steve thinks, and he knows why Bruce is smiling this way. It's a kind of self-satisfied apology, the type that may show some remorse, but will definitely not yield results. Bruce isn't going to tell them what he knows, and Steve and Tony can do nothing about it.

"If it's any consolation," Bruce tries, eyes set on Tony, "I'm pretty sure you'll figure it out yourselves."

"Could use the help." Tony mutters, and Bruce makes a placating gesture with his hand.

"I already told you, I'm not that kind of doctor."

"Yeah, haven't got the temperament was it?" Tony glances at Steve with a half smile, guessing correctly that Steve would have no idea what that means. "Fine. They say victory's better when you do it yourself anyway." He says, and Bruce laughs as he moves to get to his feet.

"So there's really nothing you needed my help with after all?"

"You're not in charge of approving us for field work, so sadly, no."

"Wait, Dr. Banner." Steve says when Bruce stands. All eyes turn to Steve, and he straightens his back to face the two scientists. "Were you able to find what it was they used to paralyze us with?"

"Steve..." Tony says, glancing at Bruce, who adjusts his glasses before answering.

"With your metabolism and the amount of time that's passed since you were drugged, it would be very difficult to figure it out." Bruce says, crossing his arms. "I did take all the samples I could from you guys when you got back to the tower, but..." He shakes his head slowly, "even if I manage to find results, it's going to take time."

"Make it a priority." Steve says, then pulls a face at how strict it sounds and adds- "Please." Which makes Bruce's smile grow kinder. He steps close and pats Steve's shoulder once before making his way to the door.

"I will, Cap." He says, then turns around at the door to face them. He hesitates before speaking up again. "Say... How long has it been since you went through your first military training?"

It's a rhetorical question, but Steve answers anyway. "A little over seventy years. Why?"

"Hmm..." Bruce closes his eyes momentarily in thought, the corners of his mouth raised in a shadow of a smile. "Practices might've changed. New units, new training methods." When he opens his eyes and looks directly into Steve's eyes, there's no hint of the man's usual shifty demeanor. "Don't you think so, Tony?" He asks, tilting his head, and before either of them can respond, the moment is gone. Bruce shifts his weight from one leg to the other and chuckles. "Oops... Might've said too much there. Enjoy the rest of your evening." He hurries out, leaving Steve and Tony standing alone in Tony's workshop.

~

"Steve-" A wave of the Captain's hand makes Tony fall silent. He walks over to where Steve is seated and looks over his shoulder at the tablet Steve is holding. "You know, there's pizza and a bunch of Avengers acting like I'm your designated adult," Steve snorts at that, "all waiting in the living room." Two strong hands rest on Steve's shoulders and massage him slowly. "It's a Thursday, Steve." Tony says when Steve doesn't move to put down the tablet. There's an article there about special units and their training. "It's your turn to pick the movie, and next in line is Clint. Don't leave us at the mercy of that kung-fu movies fanatic."

"You're being ridiculous, Tony." Steve says with a huff, and finally sets the tablet down. "Even if I do pick the movie tonight, he'll be up next week. What will you do then?" He reaches up to take Tony's hands in his own and tilts his head back to look into Tony's face.

"I'll pretend I have a Very Important Project to work on, obviously." Tony says, grinning mischievously.

"And miss out on kung-fu movies? Shame." Pausing, Steve gets out of the chair and turns to face Tony. "I'm rather fond of them."

"Liar, you always fall asleep."

"I do not!" Steve hopes his expression conveys enough outrage, but with the way Tony's laughing, he's not sure it's working.

"I'd pop-quiz you about 'em, but I never pay attention either."

They head for the living room, talking all that while, and Steve smiles more than he has in the past couple of months. He stops in his tracks right before stepping out of the elevator, and Tony stops with him, turning to look at him. It's clear Tony wants to ask, but is waiting for Steve to speak instead.

"We haven't talked this much since..."

"Since that day in the park." Tony's voice is quiet, but Steve hears him loud and clear.

"And I've been..." Pausing, Steve grasps for the right word, "getting better." He settles for, but feels it's not an adequate phrasing. It's not that things are progressively becoming easier, it happens in moments. Times when things are easy and nice, like it is at that moment. He furrows his eyebrows in thought, and doesn't startle when Tony's fingertip presses against the deep crease the expression creates atop the bridge of his nose.

"What will you do when your face gets stuck like this, hmm? It's not very attractive." Tony's tone is still quiet, fond even. Steve forces himself to relax, and smiles instead.

"Woe is me if you don't find me attractive anymore." Steve teases lightly and reaches up to take Tony's hand off his face. He watches Tony's face, hoping for some input on the matter, and Tony, seeing the silent request, sighs and lowers his gaze.

"I wouldn't call it 'getting better', Cap." Tony says, leaning in to press a careful kiss to Steve's cheek. "But things _are_ better now than they've been in a long time."

And that's all Steve really needs to hear at that moment. He likes Tony's word-choice better. It's more accurate than what Steve had chosen to go with. He keeps hold onto Tony's hand and finally leads him out of the elevator into the living room. Everyone's already settled in their usual spots, and no one makes any remark about their hand-holding as they greet the two and wait for them to settle down as well.

"So what's it gonna be?" Clint asks. He's lying sprawled on one of the sofas, his eyes set on the four balls he's juggling. Natasha is sprawled on the sofa on the other side, tinkering with her wristbands. Thor is sitting to Steve's other side, chewing on a chocolate bar and Bruce sits with his legs folded on a cushion seat next to one of the sofas. Steve bumps his shoulder against Tony's, still holding onto his hand. <What> <you> <say>

"Have you seen Galaxy Quest? I think we should see Galaxy Quest." Tony says suddenly, making Clint glance at him.

"It's Cap's turn tod-"

"I've never seen that movie, is it good?" Steve interrupts, giving Clint a questioning smile. It's Natasha who answers before anyone else gets the chance to.

"Star Trek parody that turns into actual Science Fiction. Decent movie." She glances at Steve with a raised eyebrow. "References likely to go over your head, but it's good in its own right."

Steve likes working with Natasha for this reason exactly. She doesn't beat around the bush, rather goes straight to the point, and doesn't sugar-coat anything of her observations. He nods his head and turns to the TV. "Let's see it."

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 7\. months. I am SO sorry for the huge delay. I have had a lot of shit to get over in my life that writing was just not an option.   
> Next chapter is the sex, it's already partially written and I'm hoping to dish it out soon. Have fun!
> 
> Big thanks to [Ann2who](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ann2who/pseuds/ann2who), who did the beta reading on this chapter. You do not know how much better it is thanks to her.

"All I'm saying is, they totally exaggerated pretty much everything," Tony says, his tone defensive and a bit outraged, which makes Steve shake his head.

"That's how satire works, Tony. You don't need me to tell you that." He lets his hand rest naturally on Tony's lower back and guides the man to the elevator to take him back to his quarters.

The movie had been a fun endeavor, but Steve's been dying to tell Tony of his findings of that day, and so they'd parted with the rest of the group quickly after the movie had ended. Steve's sure it roused some suspicion, but right now, he doesn't care. Let them think what they will.

<news> Tony taps on Steve's side inquisitively, and Steve doesn't respond until the doors close behind them, with the rest of the team giving them weird looks from the sofas. That can wait, Steve thinks absently. He'll handle the traitors later.

"Remember what Bruce said?" Steve asks quietly as the elevator carries them back to his quarters. Tony nods his head affirmative but doesn't speak. "We should talk, but not here."

Steve's reading has led him to a grim discovery. He's almost completely sure of his findings, and he can't wait to run his thoughts by Tony, see if the genius finds any flaws in his theory. He doubts it, but it's possible.

They change into warmer clothes; it's still quite cold outside and Steve rationalizes that, should they be faced with another kidnapping attempt, it'd take more effort to tranquilize him when he's got most of his skin covered. He's getting used to this sort of thought process, and he can't bring himself to find fault in it. Sure, he'd always been cautious before, but he could always learn from past experiences.

They walk farther than usual, for no reason other than that Tony's in the mood for steaks, and he's adamant about having them at a specific steak-house he's fond of. Steve doesn't object, and they find themselves seated before long in a dimly lit corner, waiting for their food in relative quiet. When Tony takes a breath, giving Steve the impression he's going to ask, Steve taps <wait> and Tony's mouth snaps shut. Steve doesn't want to talk about it before they get to eat, since he's sure their appetites would go out the window, and it would be a shame to waste the place's excellent steaks.

Tony is tapping his foot in his usual nervous tick, and Steve is slightly miffed when he realizes the tapping isn't random. In fact, Tony is tapping <tell> <me> repeatedly. How is that man even real, Steve wonders, just as he's finishing the last of his steak. Tony's done with his own meal, and is absently dipping a lone potato slice in a small dish containing ketchup and Tabasco sauce. His eyes are focused on the motion, like it's the most important thing to do at that moment. Steve follows the movement as Tony lifts his hand and deposits the potato in his mouth, then meets his gaze. Beyond curiosity, Tony's got a clear air of urgency about him.

"Alright," Steve says at last, setting the fork down and taking on his down-to-business attitude. Tony's concentration level peaks immediately. The man knows Steve so well that it's difficult to not smile at the thought. "Have you heard of the term 'captivity training'?" Steve asks, his tone careful. Recognition flashes across Tony's face, and he frowns.

"You think..."

"I'm pretty much certain, at this point," Steve says, not letting Tony finish the sentence. "It was the number one suspicion I've been having ever since I woke up in that cell," he explains, and Tony stays quiet, clearly waiting for Steve to explain his reasoning. "Neither of us got injured, and we weren't interrogated. We had no visitors and no one to talk to beyond one another, and that was strange in and of itself." Steve pauses, and when Tony nods his head in agreement, he continues. "No one stopped us from trying to communicate, and holding conditions were pretty darn good for a couple of superheroes you've just abducted. I can't think of one enemy of ours who would bother with the kind of nutrition and sanitation we got."

"But?" Tony says, sensing Steve's reservation.

Steve frowns. "Well, that's just it. I've been going over captivity training methods logged in SHIELD’s databases–" Tony raises a surprised eyebrow, making Steve smile and shake his head.

"Our methods differ, Tony, but I can hack SHIELD just as easily as you can," he says, and doesn't explain beyond that as he returns to the matter at hand. "Anyway, as you'd expect from captivity training, they're never gentle with their trainees." He waits again, in case Tony wants to say anything, but when no interruption occurs, he carries on. "As they shouldn't be. If they're training cadets to be able to withstand captivity, to know what to expect..."

"What we went through wasn't even remotely like that," Tony completes, his frown matching Steve's. "But then why do it in the first place?"

Steve shrugs. "No idea," he replies truthfully. "There's a few options, though."

"I'm all ears."

"Maybe they wanted to test our ability to communicate with our new code. Remember, it was Clint who brought it up at the time," Steve says, Tony taps <bird> <brain> at him, and Steve actually chuckles before continuing. "Or they might've wanted to test our ability to overcome isolation." He doesn't elaborate but knows Tony doesn't need him to. They're both quite aware of how this episode has changed them. Maybe it's not an irreversible change on some matters, but being in isolation has definitely left an impression on them. Tony nods his head, and Steve continues: "Maybe they just wanted to see what it would take to kidnap us, to incapacitate us. When we'd try to make a break for it, when we'd insist they let us back in duty."

"Maybe they wanted us to hook up." Tony adds, clearly joking, but Steve looks him right in the eye and says–

"Maybe."

"Oh come on..." Tony says, disbelief written all over his face.

"Think about it, Tony. Push us to make a code between ourselves; kidnap us and put us in a situation that forces us to communicate solely with that code... I'm not saying we didn't have the potential to end up like this anyway," he hurriedly adds, because Tony's gaze is becoming dark and foreboding. "It's just that it might've encouraged us to get there." He hesitates, then explains further. "When I woke up in there, one of my first coherent thoughts was whether or not you were okay."

"We've both been in captivity before." Tony says after a long quiet moment, pointedly not addressing the subject of the thoughts they'd had during that ordeal. "So we know it wasn't exactly training." He says, twirling his knife on the table. "Rescue operation was strangely clean. No resistance, not even alarms..." Tony considers that. "Someone's gotta pay for this, Steve," he says, and though his tone is calm, Steve can see the kind of rage on Tony's face he himself is harboring. This kind of betrayal is not something he could easily forgive and would certainly never forget. Tony's grudges ran just as deep and quite a bit fiercer, he would bet.

"What did you have in mind?" Steve asks, but Tony shakes his head, and the smile that grows on the genius's face is anything if not unnerving.

"Oh… No. We're not going to make a half-baked plan here, Stevie boy. We're going to plan something grand," he says and orders a check. "We'll make a plan and they will be sorry for this betrayal."

"That's fine by me," Steve agrees, turning the thought over in his head before glancing at the waiter that had just placed the check on their table. He follows the man with his gaze until he's well and far off, and then turns to Tony. "First, we need to improve our code. I want to be able to communicate with you at the tower."

Tony nods his head. He pulls his credit card from his wallet and sets it over the check without even looking at it. "Your so called methods," he asks, voice hushed, "they untraceable?"

And Steve huffs a breath, a bit insulted. "I'll pretend you didn't just say that," Steve says, huffing. The waiter comes and goes, and Steve keeps his eyes on Tony. "Why ask?"

"I need you to use them. We need to find out who's behind this. They have got to be working from within Shield." Snatching the card from the waiter, Tony leaves a bill of 50$ on the table and makes to stand up. The card is put away, and Steve falls into step next to him as they leave. "We need names and work-schedules."

Steve nods his head to show he's mentally registering everything Tony has to say. By the time they're back at the tower, they have a general plan for the time being. As for their actual revenge… that is left for later. Tony mentions he needs to sleep on it, and Steve feels it would take a while to balance out something extreme enough to convey their anger, but not too nasty as to cost people's lives.

 

~

 

A few days pass in quiet. There are no villainous attacks and there's some time before movie night, so most of the team is busy doing their own thing. Thor's got Jane over, which basically means he's hardly in touch. Clint and Natasha are lurking in the training rooms half the time, and spend the rest of it beating each other at cards, or chess, or whatever other game they can think of. Steve spends most of his days going through SHIELD's databases, collecting the kind of data Tony had asked for. Tony spends the same amount of time running his own infiltration into Shield while constructing a plan for his and Steve's revenge. They're both careful to not let it show, but Steve still catches Natasha's suspicious looks every so often, and Bruce has not been seen outside of his room for days.

It's a word, one word, that gets Steve's interest piqued, but by the time he's followed it into the deep security files on SHIELD's mainframe, he gets a text message from Tony that reads: _we have a problem._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been such a pain to write, but I'm extremely pleased with how it turned out.  
> I owe everything that's right about this chapter to [in-umbra-gratia](http://in-umbra-gratia.tumblr.com/) and [ann2who](http://stark-spangled-lovers.tumblr.com/), who've done a remarkable editing work on it, and have held my hand through fixing some of the most awkward phrasing choices I've ever made.

When they meet, the look in Tony's eyes is grave, and Steve is impatient. He wants to get back to his research. He needs to find out the meaning behind that word, and why, of all things, it had appeared in the file he was reading in that context.

"Let's go for a ride," Tony tells him, and Steve narrows his eyes. It's only when Tony leads him into his workshop that Steve realizes Tony had never meant for them to be using a car. As Tony suits up, Steve watches him in awe. He hadn't had the chance to actually fly with Tony yet, and isn't exactly sure how this would go, but he trusts Tony.

They fly at a moderate speed, and Steve is sure they could go faster easily. The speed doesn’t bother him all that much, but he assumes it has to do with Tony being uncertain of how fast he can go before it might start affecting Steve's body. He doesn't mention it, though, and just leans a little closer, securing his arms around the metal neck of the suit, while Tony's arms remain fastened around his waist, snug but not too tight. Soon, Tony lands them on top of a building. Steve figures this is as close as they're going to get to minimal surveillance.

"Hydra," Tony says as soon as they've landed and his helmet has retracted.

Steve stares at him long and hard, then averts his eyes. "Yeah," he agrees, shoulders tight and brows furrowed. "I just found out about it, too. I was going to follow the lead I found. This could be bad news, Tony. Worse than we'd imagined."

"My data trace suggests an array of subclusters peppered through the organization. I've isolated a few groups according to activities and spread but…" Tony trails off. He seems concerned, and Steve waits patiently for him to complete the thought. "It doesn’t make sense, does it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look, they had us in their hands, immobilized, dependant on their sustenance. They've reduced us to such a state of paranoia, we're standing on top of the only building I know of that isn't somehow related to SI," Tony says, his eyes wide with distress and in that moment, Steve has a clear understanding of the point he’s trying to make. If Hydra had infiltrated SHIELD so intricately, they could have very easily gotten rid of the two of them while they were detained. Why didn't they?

"All right, let's work on figuring that one out, first," Steve says, his tone low. What could it have been?

After a moment, Tony shakes his head, though, grasping Steve's shoulders with gauntlet clad hands. "Do you even realize how close we got to dying in the most pathetic way imaginable?" he asks, verging on hysterical, and Steve, nerves already stretched thin and desperate for a plan of action, reaches up to clasp the back of Tony's neck and pulls him in for a kiss. It's harsh, it has to be, so Tony won’t be able to pull back, and after a long moment,he finally calms down, the grip on Steve's shoulders relaxes, and the only noise to be heard is the roaring of the wind around them. Steve lets go at last, eyes set on Tony for a moment.

"We didn't die, Tony. And we need to keep ourselves together if we want to keep it that way," he says, perhaps a little firmer than Tony deserves to be talked to right now, but Tony doesn't seem to mind right now. "I have an idea for our revenge," Steve says then, a bright inkling tickling his mind. "We'll cover it with cleanup duty, and when we're done, no one will dare mess with us ever again."

"I like that idea already," Tony murmurs, still a little breathless. "But first, can we figure out why we're still alive?"

"Yes. I'm curious too," Steve admits with a small smile, and Tony gives him a long, contemplative look. "What?"

"Can you kiss me again? I think I missed more than half of that last one and that's a terrible shame."

"You're ridiculous," Steve says, and he's still smiling despite it all, indulging Tony as he leans in to give him exactly what he wants. This time, it's radically different. Steve leisurely presses their lips together. His hand is on Tony's shoulder rather than the back of his neck, and he's simply letting it happen rather than making sure it does. Tony, not caught off guard this time around, is a great kisser when he puts his mind to it. Their lips touch a few times, before tongues dart out to add moisture, and before long, it gets messy and downright dirty. Steve presses up against him, feeling the unyielding metal of Tony's suit, and it only serves to frustrate him more. "We should've..." he whispers against Tony's lips, before licking at one corner. "Should've started this at home…"

"Couldn't–" Tony breathes back, "superspies, remember?"

Steve responds with an absent hum. He doesn't care about superspies, because right now, the thought that he'd been so close to losing this before even having a chance to build it, is driving him mad. "Take us home, Tony."

"Yes, Captain," is all Tony has to say, before wrapping his arm around Steve and sending the suit flying. He doesn't close his helmet, and is flying even slower than before, but Steve doesn't mind. It's not stalling, it's building up tension. He can live with that. By the time they've landed at Stark Tower, Tony has managed to casually grab his ass twice, rub his metal thigh 'accidentally' against Steve's crotch six times – and Steve really needs to get back at him. Soon.

The suit disassembles around Tony as soon as they make it to the workshop, and Steve wastes no time in pulling him close, hugging him for a long moment, relishing the heat and solid presence of the man sans the suit.

"Let's go to mine," Tony suggests, pulling back and dragging Steve along. It's a weird notion, going to Tony's room to do this. They've spent most of their time together in Steve's room, after all, but Tony is right. His room is closer, and likely better equipped for what Steve wants to do next. He wonders idly how far Tony wants to take this. They haven't had the chance to do much with one another yet, what with how busy they'd been trying to figure out the mystery of their joint kidnapping. He's not particularly displeased with the slow pace their budding relationship had taken on, but he can't deny that he's curious, by now.

"Hey," he says, just as the door closes behind them. Tony pauses and turns a questioning look at him. "How… how far do you wanna go?" he asks then, figuring there's no better approach than the direct one. Tony isn't a coy, blushing virgin, and Steve isn't ashamed of any aspect of himself when Tony's involved.

For a moment, Tony starts to panic again, Steve can see it in his eyes so clearly, but he reigns it in faster this time, before pressing close again. "As far as you wanna go, Steve." He kisses Steve lightly. "Only that far."

The words make Steve shiver slightly. It’s a strange combination. Tony seems eager to please, but more interested in making sure Steve's okay with it. Leaning into the kiss, Steve gently pulls Tony's lower lip between his teeth, before letting go again. "As far as we can, then," he murmured, boldly pressing his tongue forward. Whatever Tony was going to say next, it's lost on a moan. They shuffle towards the bed awkwardly, and they've been here a few times before, shedding clothes unceremoniously, kissing messily and unable to keep their hands off each other. It's a miracle they haven't had actual sex yet, but Steve has no regrets in that department, and Tony had never given any indication that he had been missing something, before.

Once Tony has Steve sprawled on the bed, he pauses, hesitates. Steve blinks up at him, confused. "What is it?" he asks, squeezing Tony's thigh lightly. They're both naked, by now. Steve's other hand is loosely curved around Tony's erection, but he doesn’t move. He knows, right now, any touch more distinct than this would distract Tony, from what he might want to say. Tony bites his lower lips, eyes skimming over Steve's body, burning in a way touch never could.

"I want to be inside you," Tony admits, forcing the words out on a shaky breath. "But… if you prefer to try it the other way around, first, I'm all for that."

It’s obvious that Tony wants this pretty badly, if the tension in his thigh is anything to go by. His hooded eyes speak volumes of how turned on he is at the moment, like he can barely restrain himself. Steve knows Tony's keenly conscious of his inexperience, and isn't particularly set on how they do it, so long as they're doing it with one another. It's adorable, and endearing, and so _Tony_ of him.

"I think I'm done putting it off for later, Tony." He moves a little closer and pulls himself up to kiss Tony again. "There's no better time than now." Tony's eyes are beautiful up close. They're full of lust, with a touch of tenderness to them. Steve takes a moment to commit every detail to memory before Tony sets his jaw.

"Alright," Tony complies, and he looks so determined, that Steve has to smile. Whatever Tony might think, Steve isn't expecting his first time to be a perfect experience, but he knows Tony would do his best to make it as good as possible.

There is a voice in the back of his head suggesting that they should be working on their revenge, working on figuring out what the hell was going on, but he ignores it. The data is not going anywhere, and he knows, they will eventually find a way to get to the bottom of this. If they go about this the wrong way, and he’d end up missing his only chance to be this intimate with Tony, that would be a real loss, and he's not willing to let that happen. If Tony's expression is anything to go by, the sentiment is mutual.

Steve reaches up to cup the back of Tony's neck and leans in to kiss his cheek. Tony smiles, some of the tension ebbing away. Gently, he pushes Steve down and kisses him, slow, as his hands run down Steve's chest and stomach. The touch is feather light and verging on ticklish, but Steve stays as still as he can, filing away the small things Tony's doing, so that when he gets to be in Tony's place, he'd have some leads on how to make it good for him. Tony takes his time, teasing Steve in all the ways he's learned how to over time. His gaze is intent, concentration at a peak, and Steve could’ve never imagined how it feels to be in Tony’s focus like this. To have Tony all to himself. He likes that in this space they don't need to consider the outside world at all.

It takes Tony a while, caressing and touching, until he’s finally sliding his fingers along the side of Steve's dick, behind his balls, and over the sensitive skin between his cheeks. It feels like forever, but eventually he presses a finger against Steve's hole. It's a tentative touch, and Tony's eyes are fixed intently on Steve's face. Steve knows he's flushed, probably down to his chest, and it would’ve been embarrassing if he could find it in him to care. The only audience is Tony, and Tony gets to see everything. Steve's mouth is slack, hanging open. He wets his lips and watches Tony under hooded eyes. Admittedly, the touch on his skin feels odd. He wouldn't exactly call it pleasant, at least, not yet. The potential is there and the idea that Tony would be pressing himself--Steve's eyes flicker to Tony's cock at the thought--in there is slightly alarming, but more so alluring. Worst case, he reassures himself, he can just ask Tony to stop.

Tony's still got this intent look on his face, like he can read every last thought right off of Steve's face. He moves a little, reaching for the bedside drawer case and pulling a couple of items out of it with his free hand. Steve has to suppress a chuckle at how much Tony's straining to keep his hand at his ass. When the items are strewn on the mattress, Tony settles down comfortably again and eyes Steve.

"Just say the word, Steve," he says, his finger, still dry, poking against him. "Just say it and I'll stop."

Steve bites his lip at that. Tony’s making it sound like he's about to subject Steve to some unimaginable torture, and Steve knows it can't really be that torturous. He's seen porn, has even seen gay porn--the internet spares no one of such content--so he is perfectly aware that people can at the very least endure anal sex. He rolls his eyes in mild exasperation and locks his ankles around Tony's calves.

"Actually, you're not doing anything yet..." Steve says with a slight grin, wiggling his ass a bit. "I'm not going to freak out and run off, you know… Just get on with it." And perhaps there's a touch of impatience in his tone, but he's sure Tony won't blame him for it. He _is_ a little anxious despite it all. When Tony's finger finally breaches him, it’s  slick and smooth, and the sensation is too bizarre for Steve to fully grasp it. The lack of movement is making it worse, though, so he groans a little and closes his eyes. "Don't stop."

"You looked like you needed a moment…" Tony says, just as Steve's eyes open, shooting him a glance. Then, Tony's nodding his head before casting down his eyes, focussing now on what he's doing rather than on Steve's face. When, some time later, Tony takes his fingers away, Steve's body is reeling with unfamiliar sensation, a strange sense of emptiness. It's a different kind of arousal, and maybe arousal is the wrong word here, but he wants more of it, just to see how it feels. Tony's fingers had felt huge inside, but Steve assumes that his cock would be a different story altogether. He's distracted enough by that thought that he only notices the condom in Tony's hand when he's already tearing the foil.

"Uh." He clears his throat, reaching over and closing his hand about Tony's. "We don't need that."

Tony gives him a surprised look, eyebrows raised with a slight tilt of his head. Steve thinks, at that very moment, that he'd like to have this always. The ability to make Tony react this way is something he wants to master. "We're not exactly a couple of horny teenagers about to make a huge mistake in the backseat of an old car, Tony. We're both healthy. I want to feel you."

Tony's obviously still hesitating, so Steve waits for an explanation. "It can get kinda messy, Cap," he says after a moment.

Steve shakes his head. "I don't mind messy." He folds his legs a little, tugging Tony forward. "Come on…" He wraps his arms affectionately around Tony's torso, holding him close as Tony laughs, a little resigned.

"Alright, have it your way," Tony says, nuzzling against Steve's cheek before pulling back a little. Steve lets him go, and steels himself for what he knows would happen next. Tony positions himself, and then there’s a soft nudge against Steve’s ass, not unlike a finger, but noticeably wider. He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly as Tony presses forward. His eyes are closed lightly and his body is still, contemplating the intrusion.

"Still with me?" Tony asks, his tone hushed, and Steve smiles absently.

"Still here," Steve says over a hum, shifting a little to hasten Tony's motions. Tony goes marginally faster until he's finally seated all the way inside. They stay motionless for a moment, and Steve opens his eyes. "This feels weird," Steve admits, wiggling his ass ever so slightly, making Tony gasp, grasping for self control.

"I know," Tony says as soon as he's recovered. "You're still very tight." He seems rueful, and Steve reaches up to slide his hand along Tony's chest. "Should've spent more time on prep."

Steve's eyes close and he shakes his head.

"No. This is just fine." After a beat of silence, he adds, "You really should move now."

So Tony does, and they don't exchange many words after that. The motions are slow, and Steve gets used to the slide in and out of his body faster than he'd expected to. Tony's taking his time, and Steve can't say he has a problem with that. His erection had subsided soon after Tony'd started playing with his ass, but the longer they're doing this, he notices it rising back to some fullness. It helps that Tony's dick feels practically rigid inside him. Steve makes a motion to meet Tony halfway on the next return, and he's rewarded with a profoundly pleasant sensation. That, he thinks, needs to happen again, and so he moves accordingly. He hears Tony swearing under his breath, but he's too busy trying to replicate the motion that had shot thin slivers of pleasure through his nerve endings to pay much attention to that. A rhythm is set, and, well, it's awkward. Even though the two of them are pretty well coordinated on the field, this is just different. Steve decides he's willing to rise to the challenge of getting the rhythm right. For now, though, he simply concentrates on doing what feels good.

Tony adjusts his position after a few solid thrusts, and Steve thinks he might be able to come from this, but he's sure it isn't going to happen anytime soon. Without assistance, he knows, it isn’t likely to happen at all. He reaches down with one hand and takes a firm hold of himself. Tony glances between them at the motion, and when he looks back up to meet Steve's gaze, his pupils are so large Steve can see himself reflecting in their blackness. Steve licks his lips and smiles. Shakily, his other hand grasps onto Tony's bicep for grounding, while he starts rubbing himself in time with Tony's thrusts.

 _Okay,_ Steve thinks then, _this is much better._ His eyes close again, and he tilts his head back, heat creeping all over his skin as he feels a sense of urgency taking Tony's thrusts up a notch. The bed creaks beneath them, but neither of them seems to even care. The air is heavy with the moisture of their breaths and the sweet scent of the lube, accentuated by a distinct smell of sex and sweat. Steve presses down harder against Tony. He needs more, but he's not sure what it is nor does he know how to ask for it. "I…" he says, an aborted attempt at saying something.

And then, Tony tries a different angle, and Steve is gone within the next fifteen seconds. He hadn't even expected to reach orgasm on his first time, but there he was, all but rocking with the spasms of release. Tony swears again, something colorful and foul and the next moment his thrusts lose all consistency. He's pressing tight against Steve's ass, then pulls out halfway and shoves back in. The motion is repeated a few times, before Tony finally settles down, and Steve had finished squeezing the last droplets of release from his tired body.

When Tony slumps down over Steve, he does so without pulling out, and Steve doesn't need to look to know the position can't be comfortable. "Tony."

"Shhh, I'm basking."

This has Steve laughing, a loose and carefree sound that surprises him. Tony slides out of him the next moment, then slumps down next to Steve with a deep, satisfied sigh. One of his arms slings across Steve's chest and fondles his pectoral. "There you go," Tony says, his tone painfully fond. "I don't remember when I last heard you laughing like that."

Steve wants to say he'd not laughed this way since the 40s, but he doesn't want to bring melancholy into the air. He's so content and boneless, it just doesn't feel right to go there. He turns his head sideways and smiles at Tony. "I haven't been this happy in a long time," he settles for, and turns onto his side, tangling his legs with Tony's. He's, well, leaking, and it feels as odd as it sounds, but he's too comfortable like this to do anything about it. <sleep> he asks, tapping ever so gently over Tony's waist, his eyes set on Tony's face. When Tony nods his head slowly, Steve wraps his arm around him and pulls him in.

Post coital cuddling feels like just what the doctor ordered.


	8. Chapter 8

 

> Date: Jun 3rd, 2015
> 
> Report: # 60
> 
> Agent: Natasha Romanoff
> 
> Subject: Operation Babysitter
> 
> Status: Subjects still AWOL
> 
> Report: Surprisingly, just as with the last 29 reports, there is nothing new to report. The Tower is operating as normal. Hawkeye has taken to sitting in the common room and Dr. Banner spends an hour each day at the workshop. Thor seems to favor the gym, though he does not seem to be actually using the instruments.
> 
> Updates will be streamlined as they come. If they come.
> 
>  
> 
> NR.

 

Leaning back in her seat, Natasha regards the holographic screen with distaste on her face. She's alone in her room, dressed down and at ease. The second disappearance of the two biggest names in superhero business, or at least in the Avengers team, has certainly pushed the superhero community in an interesting direction. The Fantastic Four, Spider Man, even some of the X-Men have offered to take on active duty against possible villainous attacks.

Natasha reaches for her cup of coffee and takes a slow sip. Fury would not be pleased with this file, but really, what else is there to report? She reaches over and hits 'Send' before slumping back in her chair and looking outside the window. She knows those bastards are alive and kicking, and she knows they're not kidnapped, because the underground activity against SHIELD has been on the rise these past six months. Besides, there had been no ransom demands.

She sighs.

There is a soft chime, and she glances at her phone. So few people ever call her, but she still has a dedicated sound for key people. She reaches over and grabs the device. For a moment she just stares at it as it vibrates in her hand, but then she picks up.

"Agent Romanoff, is this line secure?" The old familiar voice says, and she has to smile despite herself. They had both never been much for formalities.

"No, sir," she says, as per protocol. "It's only three-layer encrypted."

"I see." Nick's voice is grave, tired, but she can still spot a hint of a smile over his sigh. "In that case, I'll see you when I see you," he says, but doesn't let her answer. "Don't forget to bring a sandwich."

The line goes dead, and she's left to process the information. Nudging Steve and Tony to get a shared code had been Nick's idea, Natasha knows, and she knows why. No one is as familiar with double crossing as Nick Fury is.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Natasha smiles. She has just enough time to finish drinking her coffee and get ready at leisure.

~

Five hours later, Natasha exits a sportswear shop with two bags slung on one shoulder. She slips into the nearby men's room and leaves one of the bags in the farthest chamber before heading directly to the train station. The second bag finds its home in a locker-room at the area's train station. She pops a gum in her mouth and adjusts her cap, and when she boards the train, she sees the familiar shape boarding the train too.

Three stops down the line, she dismounts the train and walks casually to the diner at the end of the street.

"Suits you," Nick says, knocking a finger against her cap as he moves to sit across from her. She smiles at him and glances around inconspicuously.

"Thank you."

"Followed?"

"Not that I've noticed."

"Fair enough. Let's talk, then." Nick places a small device on the table. It flips and turns, changing its stance. Natasha catches a glimpse of the Stark Industries logo on the back of the thing. It's a dampener, she knows, designed to deny any recordings of a conversation at a radius of approximately eight feet. Stark had been quite proud of that invention. Too bad he hadn't been wary enough back then to keep a closer look on it.

"You're the boss," Natasha finally says and throws him a sharp smile, which will hopefully shut him up as the waitress comes up to them. She orders for the both of them and sends her away. No more interferences.

"Start with the small details. How's JARVIS doing?"

She shakes her head. "Still refuses to speak. He maintains the house functions perfectly, and he takes care of all our needs, but we haven't been able to make him say a single word." She gives Nick a bored look. The AI had been a tough nut since the very beginning, and she has long since stopped trying to get into its workings.

"Fine. Next topic--"

"Still no word from Stark and Rogers."

"Funny you should mention them, but I am aware of that, thank you," Nick says. The waitress comes over again and serves them coffee. They wait until she leaves before Natasha speaks again.

"How about you tell me what's been up with SHIELD?" Natasha leans in conspiratorially. "I hear someone's been wiping the floor with some of our top agents."

"Someone's been doing that, and leaving some disturbing evidence for us to find." Nick reaches into the left breast pocket of his overcoat and retrieves a small USB stick. "This is top secret level 12. You know the drill."

Natasha pauses before grabbing for the stick. If it's that high a level of secrecy, why is he even giving her the intel at all? And out in the open like this… "Understood."

"Authorized personnel are you and Hawkeye. If you meet Coulson, he is already informed. Keep it that way until things settle down."

"But sir--"

"You'll understand when you see it. This information has to stay with you for the duration." Nick's stare is grim and his jaw is set, so Natasha drops the subject. Surprising as it may be, it's not so much a matter of how to hide intel from her Avengers teammates, but rather her discomfort with keeping secrets from them at all.

"Yes sir."

~

Later, after she's reviewed the files, Natasha sits transfixed at her station, her hand covering her mouth in shock. It's a hardened computer, not linked to the tower or any other wireless device. It's a machine she uses only for top secret debriefing. The meaning of what she's looking at unfolds in her mind one after the other. The abduction, the break out.

Natasha grits her teeth. No wonder Tony and Steve went off the grid as they did. Who could they trust, really? They'd obviously figured out their Avenger-friends had been part of the kidnapping efforts, and she'd known they'd been aware of her monitoring of them at the tower. How else could their frequent endeavors out of the premise be explained?

She goes over the list of disabled cells. Considering their confined movements and lack of support, it's a miracle they'd gotten anything done, but to think they'd managed to get nearly two thirds of all HYDRA operations out of the way in just six months… And, despite it all, it doesn't even seem like HYDRA is aware of this surgical operation.

At first, it seems like an anomaly, but then, over the months, SHIELD cell after SHIELD cell had been wiped out, only to be proven time and again to be double agents by anonymously transmitted information. HYDRA agents! Natasha's brows crease in concentration. Bruce's gut feeling had been correct, and they'd done well to break their friends out of the compound. If they'd waited merely one more day…

It was bad enough that they'd waited that long, she reminds herself. The effects of solitary confinement had been painfully evident on the both of them, and it hadn't been paranoia alone. A haunted look that remained no matter what they did, only marginally eased when the two were in the same room at the same time. They'd played their parts, but it had been obvious they were struggling.

Bruce and Thor must not be informed, she decides. They would not understand -- would not care -- that at the time of kidnapping none of them knew of HYDRA's involvement. They'd rage and they might ruin everything. Even Hawkeye, she contemplates, shouldn't be informed of all the details.

When she's sure she has internalized all the information, Natasha removes the USB stick and destroys it. For one, it’s protocol, and some information is just too sensitive to be left lying around where anyone might be able to find it. Then, she goes to her normal workstation and sends Fury a single message:

 

> Agent: NRomanoff> Standing by for orders.

~

When finally Steve and Tony return to the Tower, nine months have passed since their second disappearance. No one at the Tower seems all too surprised to see them, but there is a measure of curiosity in everyone's eyes. Steve suspects not all of them have been informed of the HYDRA situation. He and Tony have been able to remove all of the armed cells located in the US, a feat that had cost them more hours of sleep and blood than they'd readily admit to their friends. Their last operation had led them to the very highest ranks of the organization. It'd be terrifying for anyone else, Steve thinks. Some of the higher ups could not be confronted in an armed struggle, but had to be brought down through the authorities. He'd left the bureaucracy for Tony to handle, mainly because Tony was more experienced with red tape, but also because Steve had preferred to pass that time recovering from the various injuries he'd sustained over time.

Bruce welcomes them first, and his gentle demeanor is a pleasant change to their months of cautious interaction with strangers. He prepares tea and light snacks -- all healthy, of course -- and he smiles at them before asking if he may call in the others.

Thor is first on the scene upon hearing the news. He's happy enough to see them, not exactly cheerful, Steve notes, but rather pleased to find them well. He promises to bring mead for a celebration they're sure to have later that week.

Natasha enters next, with Hawkeye on her tail. The agents examine Tony and Steve's ragged state, and only lower their guard after Tony promises he and Steve aren’t looking for a confrontation. At least not now.

When they've warmed enough and managed to relax a little, they relay the story of the past couple of months. Bruce's gaze keeps fleeting towards Natasha, and Steve suspects there might be something to worry about there, but for the time being he doesn't interfere. It's Tony who's speaking for the most part, with Steve contributing input when Tony's descriptions become too grandiose or when there had been a split of powers.

Everyone's aptly impressed with the story, and only Natasha continues to appear suspicious the entire time. Steve doesn't exactly care what she thinks -- she'd put him and Tony in incredible danger -- and he'll probably confront her about this, but now all he wants to do is rest.

They retire from their friends early and head to Tony's room, treading slowly. The room looks vacant and untouched, but Steve knows at the very least a cleaning staff had been keeping the place clear of dust. They undress methodically, and Steve takes note of the marks on Tony's body. Months of fighting, of staying undercover and of avoiding their usual life of luxury has left not only bruises but also deeper signs of fatigue on his partner. When they climb onto the bed, Steve pulls Tony in a warm hug, chin settling comfortably on his shoulder, and they both fall asleep within five minutes. No one disturbs them.

~

Things come to a head the next day. There is a full blown confrontation over breakfast. Bruce and Thor keep to themselves, and Hawkeye doesn't interrupt until he feels Natasha is being unfairly attacked.

It starts when Tony calls JARVIS out and asks him to start the coffee machine. When the AI greets him and does as requested, Hawkeye comments that he'd missed the AI's voice, and Natasha interjects that apparently, while Tony trusted the lot of them to behave in his Tower, he couldn't trust them to be polite to his AI while he was away. Tony reacts badly.

The screaming isn't all that loud, really. It's what's said that hits low and hard. Tony accuses the agents of selling them out. Tells them they're lucky he's not kicking their sorry asses out right there and then for that insult.

Steve says nothing to agree with those statements, but he doesn't contradict them either. He quietly finishes his cereal and when he's done, he stands up and deposits the bowl in the sink before turning to look at the room.

"Natasha," he says, and everyone falls silent and still, eyes turned to him. He waits a beat, then continues. "This past year has been tough on Tony and myself, in part thanks to your efforts. Do you deny that?"

"No…" Natasha scoffs, but remains otherwise still.

"We haven't been around for a little over nine months. If you think we're all alright now, I suggest you reconsider." Tony walks up next to Steve as Steve talks, and leans a little against him. "For us, this isn't over, and probably won't be for a long time, and we haven't heard any of you," he looks around the room, "apologize for what you've put us through." Shaking his head, Steve wraps his arm around Tony's shoulder. "I realize we've only just come back, so it'd be fair to give you time to consider how and when, and even if you want to. We're not planning on leaving again any time soon."

The silence that follows is deafening. Eyes fleet over everyone until Natasha breaks the silence, her arms crossing. "Don't blame Bruce and Thor for this," she says. "They were against the whole operation." Clint nods his head next to her. "As for Hawkeye and myself…" She unwinds her hands and lets them hang at her sides uselessly. "Well, I don't know how he feels about it, but I'm… really sorry for having done this." She inhales deeply. "We followed orders, but we shouldn't have."

Clint, sensing she's done, adds, "Yeah. We're both sorry for doing that… As far as I'm concerned, we'll never let anything like this happen again." And Natasha squeezes her hands into fists as she nods her head to show she agrees with that promise.

A tense moment passes over the room, and Steve glances to Tony, who shrugs back. That's as much as they're likely to get for now, and a promise of never ever letting something like that happen again is pretty much the most they can hope for. Steve still presses, though.

"And the spying?" he asks, regarding the two spies with intent. The assassins exchange looks, and Natasha closes her eyes, hand rising up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"I think we can reach some kind of agreement," she says. "If I run the reports by you, will that be acceptable?"

Steve considers this, but Tony beats him to it. "So long as those are the only reports you end up sending, the ones you run by us."

Natasha nods her head again, and Steve finally lets himself relax a little. The promise, well, he's not entirely sure he's buying it, but what can he do, really? These are the Avengers, his team, they have to reach some kind of middle ground. He'll just have to keep his eyes and ears open a little more. Tony seems to relax a little too, so that's good. The tension slowly abates, but leaves a sour taste in its wake, which doesn't entirely dissolve until later that day, when Steve goes sparring with Thor.

The whole team is there, which is new for everyone, what with the amount of time they haven't had the chance to do this. Steve and Thor are in the ring, letting loose. Natasha is kickboxing with a dummy on one side of the room, while Clint is practicing his marksman skills in a small space designed to imitate a shooting range. Bruce is taking an easy jog on a treadmill, watching everyone from a slightly taller stage, and Tony is openly ogling Steve's butt.

Steve's got Thor pinned down, eventually. A lesser man would tap out right away, but Thor's strength is remarkable, and he has a higher tolerance for pain. The demigod is grinning up at Steve. "I believe the score is now in your favor," he says, and Steve withdraws, smiling back and offering a hand, which Thor takes easily.

When Natasha steps into the ring, a tense silence takes the room, but Steve acknowledges her with a nod of his head, and as Thor retreats, they begin to spar.

It's an even fight for the most part. Their fighting styles haven't changed much, but both have learned new tricks over the past year, and are matching each other blow for blow, until Steve slips at one point. The world spins, and Steve finds himself face down on the mat, with Natasha's slight weight atop him, his arm twisted painfully upwards. He lets out an indignant cry and bumps the mat with his free hand, and the pressure is taken away immediately.

Steve misses Natasha getting gracefully to her feet, since he's too busy still recovering from the sudden collapse, but when he's got his bearings and his feet under him, he sends her a smile. There's no amount of anger that can't be dealt with in a friendly sparring session. She stands a few feet away, a bit guarded still, but when she sees his smile, she seems to relax, too.

"Good one," Steve says. "Didn't see it coming." When he looks around the room, he sees all eyes are on the ring, and all motion had ceased. He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. He and Tony have obviously been putting the rest of the team on edge, but to have them react so fiercely…

"Tony--" he starts saying.

"Yeah," Tony answers, and as Steve hops out of the ring, they head off, waving mock casually at the room as they depart. Natasha is still standing idly in the ring as they're exiting the room.

~

Everything they do, every little interaction, is like learning how to walk again. Steve and Tony had spent so much time alone on the run, living with their paranoia and driven by their mission, that it's become a foreign concept now, to simply sit for dinner with their teammates.

Bruce had requested it, though, and neither of them want to disappoint him. He'd been the most supportive of their efforts before they went out to get HYDRA, and he'd been the first to help them get accustomed to the team when they came back. He'd even promised they'd get their favorite dishes for dinner.

When everyone's settled down at the dinner table, there is a heavy silence, broken only briefly with mundane, quiet requests like 'pass me the salt?' and 'you gonna eat that?' It's only when dinner has ended that the awkwardness hangs heavier than any of the team could bear for long. It's Clint who breaks the silence and, putting both hands on the table, palms down, sighs and looks from Tony to Steve. "It's good to have you back."

It's such a forceful statement, that it feels like Clint'd practiced it for a while now. Natasha actually snorts and reaches up to cover her mouth. Thor nods his head as Bruce palms his face. At least it's something, right? Steve leans back in his chair and surveys the people around him.

"It's good to be back," he concludes eventually, and Tony, glancing at him, finally smiles and nods his head.

"It's been kind of boring without the lot of you around to bug us," he admits reluctantly, then tilts his head towards Steve. "A little more freedom, though."

Steve elbows him gently, but doesn't retort otherwise, even as the team laughs around the table. There's hope, he thinks then. Things can get back to normal, or close to it. It's going to be fine.

~

It seems most of the tension has ebbed away by the time they go back to Tony's room that evening. Steve knows it's going to take months to rebuild the trust that had been broken, to form new dynamics. Even then, he and Tony will probably still need each other's presence just to be able to maintain a certain level of calm. He dislikes that vulnerability about him, but at the same time, he wouldn't have it any other way. When he looks at Tony, he's not surprised to find him looking away, eyes unfocused.

<thoughts?> he taps on Tony's shoulder as he wraps his arm around it. Tony doesn't start, just leans into it with a small smile.

"Just thinking that Rhodey's going to kill me for not letting him know that I'm back. Should’ve called him as soon as we’d hit the tower. Maybe I should be doing it now. A little late for that, though..."

"I'll remind you in the morning," Steve says over a chuckle, kissing Tony's cheek.

"If you think we'll be up in the morning…" Tony seems skeptical of this, and Steve wonders what he means by it, until he registers the naughty look Tony's giving him.

"Oh that's a good one," Steve says, grinning. "Think you can tire me out so bad that I won't wake up in the morning?"

"I'm just saying," Tony says, feigning a disinterested look, even though the glint in his eyes is unmistakable. "It's been known to happen."

"Ah huh," Steve voices, leaning a little closer. "You better live up to that promise if you make it."  

"Have I ever broken my promises?" Tony challenges, crossing his arms.

"Not really, no," Steve says, contemplative. "You're usually good on your word." And he moves around then, to hug Tony fully, even as the man still has his arms crossed in front of him. "One of those things I admire about you," he whispers next to Tony's ear, and Tony's resolve melts away, his arms moving to wind around Steve's chest.

"Wait till I tell everyone what a big softy you are," Tony mutters against his shoulder, and Steve's eyes close, a genuine smile spreading on his face.

"Good thing your threats are usually empty, when directed at me," Steve says absently, kissing Tony's neck. "And I'd like to take you to bed now, if that's alright with you."

Instead of answering, Tony leans in and kisses Steve, slow, thorough. He presses his palms to Steve's sides and guides him towards their shared bed. Steve follows easily.

The threat has been dealt with, and even if it hadn't been a full cleanup, Steve's not sure he'd be able to care much after all this time. Sure, he and Tony have had their share of sexy times during their mission, but never in a safe setting. It had never been a comfortable situation, and everything they did was rushed. Such a long time with nothing but quickies and an occasional handjob could really hurt a relationship, especially a fresh, new relationship. Of course, Steve and Tony had never really subscribed to any norms, so it went without saying that it only brought them closer. Still, Steve is happy for the chance to take this slowly. He's been in dire need to explore rather than devour.

When Tony pulls back and slumps down onto the bed, Steve lies down next to him, leaning close to kiss Tony's neck. "Well, look at that," he whispers next to Tony's ear, voicing his thoughts in a nearly imperceptible voice. "To think I finally get to do this properly..."

Tony says nothing, his answer is obvious through his gentle caresses to Steve's side and the incredibly vulnerable look he's giving him. It's the first time Steve's ever had the chance to see this kind of raw emotion on Tony's face, and just like that, he's overwhelmed.

They make out for a long while, with Steve's tongue sweeping time and again along Tony's lips, delving inside as often as possible. Tony's tugging at his clothes, trying to push matters ahead, and Steve, though he doesn't want it to end too quickly, complies eventually with the silent request. First, because he can never get enough of seeing Tony naked, and second, because it gives him further opportunities to explore.

Once they're naked, Tony coaxes Steve to rest between his legs, allowing their erections to rub against one another, smooth surface straining over hard organs, making the slide all the more sensual and raw. Their gasps subside as soon as Steve steels his motion, and he looks into Tony's eyes like they're the only thing he could ever care about. He certainly feels that way. Tony's strong hands are drawing absent geometric formations on Steve's back and Steve has to take a moment to take in the sight that Tony's making, just lying there in wait for action.

The next kiss is almost a surprise. Steve's mind has been suggesting several approaches. Touch Tony's chest, rub his belly, jerk the both of them in his hand for a bit, but what happens is a kiss. He's not sure he disapproves. Tony's warmth and his unique taste do things to Steve's body that other, dirtier actions never could. So it's only when Tony's hand wraps around the two of them at once, that Steve realizes he's been stalling too long. Still, he can’t find it in him to even feel an ounce of remorse. His mouth moves to latch onto Tony's neck, sucking a hickey into a well visible part of that expanse. He's groaning against the warm skin, Tony's grip on his cock too present for him to ignore. They're rutting against one another, no shame, no inhibition. Steve likes it, but doesn't want to let it drag on too long, and have their first time back at home accidentally end prematurely. And so he withdraws from Tony's embrace, giving him an apologetic look. It’s unneeded, though. Tony's eyes are basically sparkling by now.

"Had enough foreplay?" Tony teases, not seeming to mind the sudden distance between them as Steve shuffles over to the bedside drawer in hopes of finding a still sealed tube of lube there, or, at least, something that would not have expired, yet. Sadly, he doesn't find any lube, not a tube, not a jar and not even a packet. His hand does bump, however, into a different tube. Retrieving it, Steve eyes it skeptically. It's body lotion, and Steve's about to put it away when Tony grabs for it. "It'll do, Steve. Come here and get to it already."

If Tony's tone is anything to go by, then Steve must conclude he might've been teasing him a bit too much. What can he do, though? Tony's just so much fun to touch and tease... And it's not Steve's fault this is the first time he's ever had the chance to take his time with him. It seems Tony's gotten kind of used to their quick lays. "Don't order me around, Tony. Today, we're doing it my way," he says as he snatches the lotion back.

The petulant sound Tony makes at that is downright adorable. And ridiculous. Steve chuckles as he turns to examine the tube. Nowhere does it say it's unsafe for internal use, and Steve turns it around and pops the cap, sniffs at it lightly. It's a neutral, gently pleasant scent, and Steve decides this will definitely do. He settles between Tony's legs again, propping them over his own thighs. His free hand reaches down to run from the place right under Tony's balls further downwards, pressing teasingly against Tony's rear. "Need my fingers?"

"I need your dick," is Tony's response, breathier, Steve suspects, than Tony'd intended it to be. It matters very little, because Steve coats his forefinger with some lotion, then presses it back to Tony's ass, breaching the ring of muscle with ease. Tony's breath hitches and his back arches. Steve's isn’t quite sure if it's the coolness of the material or the sudden intrusion that earns him that response, but he's pleased either way. Tony spits "bastard" under his breath the next second, as Steve withdraws his finger and turns to coat himself thoroughly. The last thing he wants to do is cause either of them discomfort, and though Tony's impatient, Steve will not be rushed on this matter.

Finally, Steve tosses the lotion aside and uses his now free hand to grab the underside of Tony's thigh, next to the knee. He pushes it upwards and shifts a little, his other hand coming around to support Tony's ass. Tony helpfully wraps his free leg around Steve's waist, allowing him to briefly use that hand to angle himself right, until the head finally presses inside. Tony's eyes close and stay that way, and his mouth is hanging lax and open. Steve takes it slowly, his hands moving to steady Tony by the hip as he presses further inside. Tony's so warm and cozy around him, the heat at times becoming almost too much, but Steve loves it like that. He's watching for any sign of discomfort, but Tony's not likely to make any -- not because he'd hide it from Steve, but rather because he'd become quite accustomed to having Steve inside him. Still, Steve doesn't rest easy until he's fully sheathed, with Tony's legs wrapped firmly around his waist and a dopey smile plastered across his lips. He wants to ask, but before the words cross his lips, Tony lets out a content sigh and wiggles his ass slightly against him.

"Mmm... perfect," he utters, so Steve drops the question.

"Pretty great where I am, too."

"Then you better start moving, Spangles."

Tony cracks an eye open to see how Steve reacts, and Steve doesn't fail to roll his eyes at the annoying petname. "You better stop talking."

And to ensure Tony's inability to form syllables into words, Steve starts moving, immediately falling into a hard and fast pace. For the most part, he does it because his patience has run out by now, but partially he goes fast because he's not sure how well the lotion would hold, and he doesn't want to have to reapply it in the middle of the action. Either way, Tony seems to approve of this turn of events. The warmth tingles at Steve's lower back and at the base of his cock, and he reaches a hand to grasp onto Tony's dick to give him more stimulation. Fingers slide up Steve's neck and into his hair, massaging half-heartedly as Tony uses his grip for leverage, pressing against the thrusts time and time again. Heavy breathing and the soft creaking of the bed are the only sounds reverberating across the room, as both men push each other towards their climax. And it doesn't take long until they get there. Tony goes first, but only by a few seconds. He twists in Steve's grasp, leaning only on his shoulders as his back arches, as a couple of desperate sounds fall from his mouth. And then, he spills all over himself. Steve grunts low and deep when he finally climaxes, taking extra pleasure in the knowledge that his cum is coating his lover's insides rather than any obstacle. They'd been using condoms while being off the grid, simply to avoid the mess, and Steve had never actually had the chance to experience this before. Tony, of course, had repeatedly pressed the issue and demanded they go without as soon as the op was over. The demand had been so clear, so insistent, that Steve hadn't even considered asking about it. And, well, if he were to judge by Tony's expression, that had been the right decision.

Carefully, Steve lies down. He doesn't put his full weight on Tony, but the closeness is absolutely required, he feels. It's only a few moments later that he finally pulls back and out of Tony, in favor of lying down beside him and pulling him into a hug. "That was--"

"Transcendent?"

"We need to work on your dramatics," Steve says, exasperated, burying his face in the side of Tony's neck. "I was going to say 'incredible'."

"Your vocabulary needs work. A lot of work."

"I think I didn't fuck you hard enough. You're still talking coherently."

"You should probably give it another try..." Pausing, Tony shifts a little, biting the inside of his cheek with a delighted expression on his face. "But give me a moment, okay? I need..."

"Yeah..." Steve says, nuzzling against Tony's neck. He'd be up for another round in no time, but he doesn't want to press the issue, so he waits until Tony wants to go again. Until then, they lie in a comfortable silence, letting their breathing even out and the endorphins ebb away.

"You know..." Tony says, unprompted, turning to look at Steve, who's by now moved to lie on his back beside him. Steve hummed to indicate he was paying attention. "All that's happened? I'm glad you were in that cell next to mine. And I'm grateful HYDRA didn't get to kill us."

Steve pauses, glances at Tony. After a short moment, he smiles. "I am too," he says, reaching over to cup Tony's cheek gently, thumb running under his eye. "I'm glad we're here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beh, the first upload of this chapter screwed up my mood. I hope this time it'll be just fine...


End file.
